Red Eyes Bleed Green
by Bitter November
Summary: Christmas; the season for trees and decorations, lights and carols...staggering insecurity issues brought on by family. Soul has always been runner up to his older brother Wes. With some help from Maka, maybe he can finally realize that the only one who ever thought of him as second best was himself.
1. Chapter 1

AN: MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY READERS! Or whatever holiday you happen to celebrate! This wraps up my holiday fics until Valentines Day, and I hope you get pleasure from reading. Soma Bytes will be updated soon, and this winter I start the first of my RPG/adventure themed AU. Plus random one shots along the way. Thanks to all the people who bother to follow and review! I hope you'll continue to enjoy my work in the following year.

Soul glared at the pile of warm winter clothing in his luggage with a venom not usually found directed at sweaters. It was the morning of their 7:30 AM flight, and he had put off packing till the last-minute in the vain hope that the trip would be miraculously called off. Of course it wasn't, and of course he was now sulking like a toddler that had been told it couldn't have a pony, and was in fact having spinach wrapped broccoli instead. All he had wanted to do was spend a nice, normal Christmas season like they usually did, no deviations, no surprises, no family. And he would have gotten away with it, if it hadn't been for his meddling meister and her talking cat...

XXX

He should have known it was coming. Bad things always seemed to happen to him in threes, so there was no reason to think that today would be any different. His favorite headband had snapped in two this morning, and he had gone to devour the last of his Halloween candy to lift his mood, only to discover someone had gotten to it first, insultingly leaving a lone wrapper behind to taunt him from the bottom of the gaudy, bat covered orange bag.

Grumbling about cheap Chinese products and sneaky housemates, he had gone out to bring in the mail while Maka put lunch together, quickly jogging down to their box and then back up the stairs, flicking through the mail as he entered the kitchen.

Bill.  
Bill.  
Junk.  
Pizza coupons. Steal those for his night to fix dinner.  
Junk.  
Junk.  
Victoria's Secret Catalog for him and Maka to fight over.  
Ju- no, a postcard.

Thinking that it was from Maka's mother, he opened his mouth to tell her she had mail, when he noticed the handwriting and froze. He did a double take. A triple take, just to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks. Sadly, they weren't; it was his brother Wes' flawless-like-fucking-everything-else-he-does-perfectly caligraphy. A nervous glance confirmed that Maka wasn't paying any attention to him, so he quickly scanned the words on the back of the snow scene.

Dear Soul,

It's been a long time since the two of us have really spent any time together. I was hoping that you and your meister would join me in Aspen for the Christmas holidays. Mother and Father will be staying in New York, So you don't have to worry about dealing with them. If the two of you can make it, please let me know. I'm staying in the family cabin, and the number is still the same.

Your Favorite Older Brother,  
Wes

Ha. Ha. Hahahahahaha! No. That was absolutely out of the question. He glided silently to the trashcan, erasing his breath and all that ninja shit, getting ready to get rid of the incriminating paper.

"Watcha got there, Soul? You're being aaaaawefully sneaky!" came the bubbly voice of doom.

He looked over his shoulder and froze. That blasted purple cat was sitting right behind him, teasing eyes glinting out from under that ridiculous hat of hers. Worse, she had drawn Maka's attention, and now both females were staring at him curiously, driving home the fact that his moment of privacy had been a fluke.

"Nothin'! Can't a guy get rid of some junk mail without gettin' the third degree?" he asked defensively, voice going unnaturally high.

"You throw it away one piece at a time?" Blair purred, delighted to cause the boy some discomfort.

"I...uh, that is..." he fumbled for a convincing lie, even though he knew it wouldn't work. Maka knew him far too well; she could always tell when he was bullshitting before his words ever left his mouth.

Said partner had darted forward and snatched the postcard from him, her brows furrowing as she read. Green eyes bore into him when she had finished, silently accusing him of hiding things from her. He should know better by now. That woman must have some sort of government issue radar that let her know when he was being secretive. Sometimes, he suspected she could tell what boxers he was wearing just by looking at him. The thought both frightened and strangely aroused him.

"I don't suppose you were planning on telling me about this any time soon." she stated rather than asked, one eyebrow twitching dangerously as she tapped her bare foot on the pale blue linoleum, in the way that said he had better talk fast or he would be violently introduced to her latest literary interest.

"What's to tell? He sent an invitation, I'm not going. That's all there is to it." he measured the distance to the door, trying to decide if he could escape before she tackled him to the ground and forced him to talk about this. Glumly, he had to admit she was faster than him. He should really start jogging more seriously.

"Don't give me that, Soul! You've hardly seen your brother at all these past few years! Now he's asking you to come see him, and after that stunt you pulled with graduation last spring, I think you should."

"Stunt? There was no stunt! I told you, I got the dates for the ceremony mixed up and told him the wrong day! It's not like I did it on purpose!" he said with affronted dignity. And that was mostly true. He would just keep the fact that he didn't call Wes back with the right date once he found out to himself.

Maka just continued to stare at him, not buying a word of it, green eyes set high on 'guilt trip.'

"Okay, fine, maybe a little on purpose. But that doesn't mean I have to go now, and nothin' you say is gonna convince me otherwise."

She saw the strained look in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his throat flexing as he crossed his arms in defiance. With a deep sigh, the irritation left her, and she came closer to rest her hand on his arm.

"Soul, if you really don't want to go, I won't push you. But I do want you to at least think about it. I know you don't have a good relationship with your parents, but I always got the impression that you got along alright with your brother."

He sighed, memories he would much rather not think of being dredged to the surface. "Yeah, we get along fine. Wes is great, it's just that...never mind. You wouldn't understand." he left it at that, not wanting to get in-depth about his lame insecurity issues.

"Maybe not. I just don't want you to have any regrets later. Life is unpredictable, Soul. You never know how long you have with someone before it's too late. But like I said, it's your decision, and I'm not going to nag you about it."

Looking at her earnest expression, he could tell she was serious. He could throw the postcard away and forget he had ever received it, and she would never say a word. But he knew she would be disappointed in him, and there was truth in the things she had said. His resolve crumbled; later, he would probably regret this, but just this once he would do as his brother asked. With one stipulation.

"Fine. But I'm not goin' alone. If I go, so do you." he may not be spending Christmas the way he wanted, but he would be damned if he spent it without her.

Grinning, she threw her arms around him in a rib crushing hug, his hands enjoying the brief, inadvertant contact with her breasts before he loosely returned the embrace.

"Stupid. Of course I wouldn't make you go by yourself! Besides, the invitation included me too. I know you're not looking forward to this, but we'll have a good time, I promise! Now, call your brother and figure out what dates work the best. I'll clear our schedule with Shinigami-sama once you're done."

The reality of the situation began to sink in, and he had the ominous feeling he had made a huge mistake. Time to stall while he thought of a plausible excuse not to go. Somehow, he didn't think, 'because my brother is Perfect McPerfectpants and makes me feel like I'm drowning in his shadow,' would work. Not without making him look supremely petty.

"Yeah, sure. I'll get around to that." he muttered, savoring the chance to hold on to her, her hair tickling his nose as he rested his cheek on her head. It didn't last nearly long enough. It never did, really, these moments of touching her in a non battle/injury related manner.

Pulling away, she shrugged. "Alright. If you don't do it, I will."

The last thing he wanted was to have her communicating with Wes any more than was absolutely necessary. He went to hunt for his cellphone, eager to get the call out of the way.

It wasn't till later, after he had hung up, that he realized that Maka had no way of getting in contact with his brother, and he might have been able to put it off until she had forgotten about it. Now he was stuck, forced to spend two weeks alone with his brother, which meant fourteen days of being shown up in every way possible in front of Maka. Jingle fucking Bells.

XXX

"Soul, hurry up! Papa will be here any minute to take us to the airport!" Maka shouted from the living room.

"Hold on, I'm almost done!" he gave the zipper on his duffel bag an energetic yank, closing in the smell of new clothes. He had had to go shopping; it was going to be cold in Aspen, and he didn't have many non-Spartoi issue winter clothes. Maka had done her shopping without him, and he could only hope she took his advice to pack warm, since he could still remember how cold it could get in the mountains, and this year was even colder than normal. Making sure his iPod was in his backpack, which he carried on the plane with him with all of the stuff he didn't want the airport to lose, he hefted the pack to his shoulder, taking the duffel in the other hand and joining his pacing meister.

She had forgone her usual skirt, instead wearing a pair of closely fitting flared black jeans, a red sweater with a black broken heart on the front, and short black ankle boots on her feet. her hair was down, and it whipped behind her as she paced back and forth, glancing from the window to the clock. He dumped his bags next to hers by the door, deciding against sitting down since he knew he would fall asleep as soon as his butt hit the seat. Why the hell couldn't they have taken a flight later in the day? Oh, that's right. Maka wanted to spend as much quality time in Aspen as possible. Fine. To compensate, they could just spend the night before their return flight in the airport, because he wanted to spend as much quality time getting the hell home as possible.

He was surprised she had restrained the urge to ask him if he had packed everything; no matter how many missions he had gone on over the years, she still seemed to treat him like a child that couldn't remember its own underwear.

"Soul, did you remember to pack the charger for your phone? And some extra headbands?"

Ah, there it was. The ritualistic nagging was almost comforting in its predictability.

"Yeah, got all of that. and an extra set of shoes, and the watch you insisted we get him for Christmas. What about you? Did you pack somethin' warm to sleep in? I'm tellin' you, it gets freakin' cold there at night, and the little shorts and T-shirts you wear ain't gonna cut it." he threw back at her, for once turning the tables.

"My pajamas are plenty warm. And if it does turn out that they're not enough, I can always sneak in bed with you to get warm." she grinned as he blushed and sputtered, his red eyes popping out to make him look like some kind of demonic Chihuahua.

"What the-you wouldn't!" he protested, secretly hoping her choice of nightwear failed to keep her toasty, promising himself to be extra diligent about brushing his teeth each night, just in case.

"Well, I can't exactly get in bed with your brother. I barely know him. Besides, it's not like we haven't shared the same bed before." she pulled the curtain back so she could see farther down the street.

Soul growled at the thought of her with Wes. No, she didn't know him that well, and he planned to keep it that way. He focused on more pleasant things, like the times they had had to share a bed like she mentioned. Every glorious time was burned into his memory, the melody of her sleeping breathe a song that soothed his nerves. A goofy grin threatened to steal over his face, but he managed to get it under control and look like his regular bored self when Maka cried out.

"Finally! Papa's here, let's take the bags down and meet him. We'll waste less time if we don't let him into the apartment."

He snickered as he hefted the luggage, waiting for her to shut and lock the door before making his way down the stairs.

"It doesn't matter. He's still gonna have to go through his Sparkly Derp Face Maka Greeting before we can leave."

Maka scowled, tightening her grip on the handle of her suitcase and hanging bag. "Shuddup."

That only made him laugh harder. "Maaaaakaaaa, my darling daaaaaughter!" he mock wailed, giving her his best imitation of her father's creepy eyes when he got all worked up.

"Gross! Don't do that! It's bad enough when Papa makes that face, but on you, it just...ugh! No."

He paused at the top of the last fight of stairs, making sure the wheels of her suitcase didn't catch on the crack in the first riser.

"You never know. Someday I may have a daughter, so I should start practicin' for her."

"I promise you now, I am never letting you do that, so just get it out of your head." she snorted as she passed him, crossing the lobby and using her hip to bump open the door, missing the way he tripped. Every so often she would say things that could imply that their future might hold more than just a weapon/meister relationship, and he both loved and hated it when that happened. Loved it for the brief, warm fuzzy feeling he got in his chest at the thought, hated it because his cynical nature would kick in and remind him he had about as much chance of Pluto being invited to the planetary family reunion.

There was a whirlwind of tailored black suit and flowing red hair as Spirit launched himself at his daughter, eyes as wide and shimmery as a shoujo character in love.

"MAAAAAAKAAAAA! Papa's missed his precious giiiiiiiiirl!" he bellowed, coiling himself around her.

She let him be for a few moments, pulling out her trusty book when she could bear the looks of the passers by no longer.

With a practiced flick of her wrist, her father hit the ground with a dull thump, his once immaculate suit rumpled and dusty.

Soul craned his neck to see the title of her book. "A Christmas Carol. Nice choice. Seasonal and all that." he chortled, always finding amusement when it was someone other than him having the words of Dickens engraved in their skull.

Tossing the bags into the trunk and slamming it shut, Soul hid a smirk as Spirit pouted when Maka slid into the back, instead of sitting in the passenger seat. Joining her in the back, he barely had time to shut the door before the car began to move, the low sound of the purring motor making Soul wonder if it wasn't about time for them to get their own car. He would keep the bike, of course; no way anyone could pry his fingers from the handle bars of his baby! But a car would be nice for longer distances, where they had to pack more than the small storage compartment would hold. It would also mean fewer instances of relying on Spirit for a ride, a point he was sure would warm Maka to the idea.

"Papa, what took you so long? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!" Maka scolded, tucking her teal down-filled coat in the seat between them, laying it over Soul's matching navy blue one.

"Relax, baby girl! we have plenty of time!" Spirit replied with an airy wave. "Papa just stopped to get you one of these, since you love them so much." he handed back a tall Starbuck's cup containing a Pumpkin Spice latte.

Maka snatched the cup greedily, mouth latching around the straw as she gave him a muffled thanks. after a few sips, she looked at her father in confusion.

"Didn't you get anything for Soul?"

"Oh dear! I seem to have forgotten all about him~" Spirit sing-songed, shooting Soul a malicious grin in the rearview mirror.

Soul rolled his eyes. Honestly, someone creeping up on forty should have an emotional maturity level greater than a six year old. He himself was manfully resisting the urge to stick out his tongue at the older man.

Maka nudged his arm, offering the drink with a smile. "It's okay, we can share it."

He leaned his head next to hers, his lips coming to rest on the straw where hers had been only moments before. He caught Spirit's eye, grinning victoriously at having gotten an indirect kiss from Maka right under his nose.

There was no time to savor his advantage, because the car turned sharply to the right, then jerked forward as the breaks were applied. The hot contents of the cup sloshed out, miraculously landing on Soul's gray sweater instead of his pants. He caught the flash of disappointment on the wily Deathscythe's face as Maka chewed him out for his reckless driving. That bastard! He had just tried to boil his balls!

The rest of the drive was uneventful, with Soul focusing on wringing what liquid he could from his shirt, the large, tan stain rapidly cooling and clinging to his stomach. It was just his luck that the first impression his brother would have of him was that he was too feeble minded to take a drink from a straw without ending up wearing it.

Spirit quickly found a parking space at the airport, and he and Soul carried the luggage to the counter, where they let Maka handle checking it in. Security was breezed through, and Soul made his way to a black chair in the corner of the waiting room, dropping his backpack between his feet. He shifted around, trying unsuccessfully to escape the wet, sticky feel of his shirt against his skin.

"Soul, you can't go on the plane like that." Maka said, taking pity on him. "Hold on, I'll go get you a sweatshirt from the gift shop."

She jogged off, Soul watching her go gratefully. Until he realized that this left him alone with Spirit, who was sitting across from him, watching him with a keen expression. Soul returned his look warily. They were in a public place, so surely Spirit wouldn't try to take him out here, would he?

"So. Mind telling me when you're ever going to tell my daughter that you're in love with her?" Spirit asked casually, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb into an already charged silence.

Soul jerked back in his seat, denial bubbling from his lips like a spring. "Dunno where you got that crazy idea, unless those aren't regular cigarettes you've been smokin'."

Spirit leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a serious line. "Cut the bullshit, kid. I've watched you watch her for years. Any idiot can see how you feel about her, and despite the impression that I sometimes give, I'm no idiot. But I'm beginning to think that you might be. You can't go on like this forever. Eventually, it'll start to eat you alive."

"So? Why do you care? I thought you'd sooner donate my body to Stein's research before lettin' me be with Maka." Soul answered, dropping all pretenses.

The older man adjusted the knot on his tie, as if it had suddenly become too tight. He looked Soul in the eye, more straightforward than he had ever been with his daughter's weapon.

"I want what any father wants for their daughter. I want her to be safe and happy. You've proven yourself able to do the first on more than one occasion, and I haven't really worried about that in a long time. As for happy...Maka is always happiest when she's around you. You can try to pass it off as just a meister's natural affection for their weapon, and that may have been true, at first. But I know my daughter, and as much as she tries to hide it, I can see that her love for you is anything but platonic. So I'll ask you again; when are you going to tell her?"

Soul wished he had just gone to the gift shop with Maka. This was the last conversation he wanted to be having, and the last person he wanted to be having it with. And honestly, he didn't know what to answer. He knew he would eventually have to break down and tell Maka. He wasn't stupid enough to think he could hold it in forever without it affecting their partnership. There just never seemed to be a good time. A good time of course being when he thought she would actually give him a chance and not shoot him down. Spirit could say all he wanted, but it wasn't his heart on the line. He was saved from having to answer by Maka's return. She waved a black plastic shopping bag cheerfully at him from across the room, signalling that he was minutes away from being able to shed his soggy shirt and slip into something dry.

Spirit saw that he had lost the young scythe's attention, and was about to ask his question again, when a bag sailed over his shoulder and landed in Soul's outstretched hands. Inwardly, he shrugged. He had done his best. Maybe Soul would take his words to heart. Or maybe not. He could be a stubborn little bastard.

"Here you go! Sorry if you don't like the color. They only had red or pink in your size." Maka explained as she took the seat next to Soul.

He froze. "Please tell me you got red. Tell me you're not making me meet Wes in a pink shirt."

Maka rolled her eyes. "As entertaining as that would be, no. Besides, pink doesn't go well with your eyes. It kind of makes you look like a bunny."

Soul glared at the snickering redhead as he stood, peeling off his sweater, letting it fall to the floor. He took the red sweatshirt with the words Death City printed in black with the soul logo on the front, shaking it out and removing the tag. He missed the way Maka watched him from under her lashes, enjoying the sight of lean muscles rippling under tan skin. Soul may have been oblivious, but Spirit certainly wasn't. His little pep talk may not have been needed after all. She might just take things into her own hands if Soul didn't pick up the pace. Maka was a strong girl, and when she knew what she wanted, she went after it. Spirit hoped the boy was into femdom.

Sighing at the feel of dry fleece on his skin, Soul shot Maka a grin as he plopped back into his seat.

"Thanks. That feels a lot better."

She returned his smile. "Don't thank me, thank Papa. I used his card since it was his fault that your shirt got ruined in the first place."

Spirit patted his pocket frantically, pulling out his wallet and opening it, only to discover his credit card was indeed missing.

"Maaaaakaaaa! Why are you always so cruel to Papa?" he wailed, almost dropping the card that spun through the air at his face. He shot a nasty look at Soul, who was chuckling at him as he combed his fingers through his hair, which had been ruffled when he changed shirts.

"I blame you for this! You've been a bad influence on my daughter, you little punk!"

Soul raised his hands defensively. "Hey, don't look at me! I had nothin' to do with it! She picked that up all on her own. It's not my fault your daughter has a naturally larcenous soul!"

"And I struggle everyday whether to use my power for good or evil." Maka broke in dryly, before a fight could erupt. Soul smirked, and her father opened his mouth to say something, but the loudspeaker came on to announce that their flight was ready to board, cutting him off.

Lifting his backpack to his shoulder, Soul watched with interest as Spirit readied to launch himself at Maka for a teary farewell, and wondered if she shouldn't have gotten herself a shirt as well. But as Spirit was in mid-air, another announcement came over the loudspeaker, requesting Spirit Albarn to come to the front desk for an urgent phone call. Looking torn between smothering his daughter and finding out what could be so important, he settled for a quick hug.

"Sorry, I should go see what that's about. Be careful, and call me when you land, okay? I'll be here to pick you up when you get back."

"I'll call you later tonight. Bye, Papa. You better hurry, that call sounds important." Maka gave him a one armed hug, then pulled away to join Soul, who was headed for the gate. He glanced at her suspiciously as they handed in their tickets to the flight attendant.

"Was it just me, or was that call awfully well timed?"

The smile she gave him was one he knew too well; she had been up to something.

"It should be. I paid them to do it when I checked the bags in. You know how Papa gets. He would have tried to crawl on the plane with me!"

Admittedly, she was right. Soul couldn't really blame her.

Laughing, he nudged her arm. "I have such a devious meister. It's amazing I haven't been corrupted by now!"

She playfully bumped him back, their bodies jarring against each other as they passed through the tight space connecting the building to the plane.

"Don't give me that! You came corrupted!"

He took a risk, slinging his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "Admit it, you wouldn't change me. You like bad boys."

She blushed, but made no move to pull away. "Not totally bad...but...a little bad is okay, I guess."

"Don't worry, I'll only be as bad as my meister wants me to be." he joked, wondering where the hell this cheesy flirting was coming from.

A strangled sound came from her throat, and she shot him a panicked look, eyes darting around to the people who were boarding with them.

"Soul! Don't say things like that!" she hissed, but he only smiled wider.

"Like what? Maka, were you thinking somethin' dirty? You were, weren't you!"

"I-I was not! Hurry up, we need to find our seats!" she squeaked, scurrying off ahead of him.

He shook his head. Sometimes she was just too cute.

XXX

"I don't wanna do this! I wanna go home! I'm bored...can we get a drink yet? How long until we land?"

All of the passengers looked at the four year old, who shrugged, and with a roll of her eyes went back to silently coloring in her book, disgusted with how immature boys could be.

"Soul, be quiet! You're bothering people! And you promised your brother that we would come, so there's no getting out of it."

The sun slanted in through the tiny window directly into Soul's eyes, and he pulled down the shade, earning a frown from Maka, who liked to look out.

"It's not too late. We could catch a flight back once we land, or just fly back ourselves. it's not that far." he wheedled, even though he knew it was useless.

"No. Come on, it's not going to be that bad! Besides, don't you think it's nice to do something different for the holidays?"

He slumped further in his seat, arms crossed and lips pushed out in a childish pout. Maka was surprized he didn't go so far as to kick the seat in front of him.

"I don't want to do somethin' different! I want to put up the tree and drink hot chocolate, laugh at Kid while he tries to untangle the lights. I want to watch holiday movies and listen to my Christmas records, and bet on how many bowls of eggnog Black*Star can chug back before he pukes."

"Yeah, see, that last one is a pretty disgusting tradition, and not really one to sell me on the idea of going home. Look, it's just one year...and I brought some of our DVDs, and I know you have music with you. I know it won't be the same, but we can still have fun! Didn't you have a good time at Christmas with your brother when you were kids? Aren't you looking forward to seeing him, at least a little bit?"

Soul wished he hadn't closed the window; it would give him somewhere else to look. Of course he wanted to see Wes. He loved his brother, and all that emotional crap. The problem was that Wes, through absolutely no fault of his own, made Soul feel like utter shit. As a small child he had idolized his older brother, who seemed to excel at everything he put his hand to. Music, sports, school...his talents were limitless, and to top it off, he had a genuinely nice personality that drew people in, and was never stuck on himself.

The problem was, people, (starting with his parents) were always comparing Soul to Wes, and he always came up short. Deep down, he knew it shouldn't matter, that life wasn't a competition, but years and years of being second best at everything could get to anyone, especially when it was something you loved. Since coming to Shibusen and becoming Maka's weapon, he hadn't had to deal with that. It had been nice, not living under a shadow, being judged on his own accomplishments instead of standards set by someone else. On this trip, he was going to try to put all that behind him. He was a Deathscythe, ranked three stars along with his meister, and a member of Spartoi. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where he was, and few bothered to make it that far. He just hoped he could remember that when he threatened to revert back to twelve years old in the presence of his brother.

"Sure, I wanna see him. It's just...two weeks is kinda long. I would've been fine with just a weekend." he hedged, eager to drop the subject.

"Well, you guys have a lot to catch up on, so it's not that surprising that he would want to spend as much time with you as he can. Really, I probably should have just stayed home. It's a good thing I brought a lot of books to keep me busy, although I could probably explore the area while you two talk-"

"No! I don't want to be left alone with him. You said yourself, he invited you too. There's nothin' I have to say to him that can't be said in front of you." Soul spoke adamantly, knowing he was using his meister as a security blanket and not really caring.

Maka studied him carefully. She could tell there were things he wasn't saying, but Soul had always been very close-mouthed when it came to his family, so she wouldn't push.

"Fine. Just promise you'll talk to him alone at least once." she saw him begin to protest and hurried on, "It doesn't have to be for long, but he might have something to say that he doesn't feel comfortable with me knowing. Other than that, I'll stay around as much as you want me to."

Nodding reluctantly, he tilted his head back as she took a book from her bag and began to read. He would just have to do his best to make sure that he kept busy. For some reason, he was nervous about the interaction between Wes and Maka. He wasn't sure why, but something niggled at the back of his head. It must have been stressing him out more than he thought, because his fingers had started to tap a frantic tattoo on his denim covered thigh, a fact he only became aware of when Maka took his hand in hers, stilling the motion.

He glanced over to find her absorbed in her book, and he wouldn't have thought she was even paying attention except for the brief squeeze she gave. He squeezed back, giving a small contented sigh when she left her hand where it was. While holding hands wasn't exactly new, holding hands in such a casual setting was. It was something he could definitely see himself getting used to. Maybe once this trip was over, he would start feeling out how she would welcome a romantic aspect to their relationship. If only that voice in the back of his head would quit telling him he was forgetting something...

XXXX

A voice telling passengers they would be landing soon jolted Soul awake, where he found he had slumped sideways onto Maka's shoulder. Her head was on top of his, her book tucked into the back of the seat in front of her, their hands still clasped together on his leg. Reluctantly, he let go, poking her arm until she woke up. He sat up, rubbing the soreness from his neck as they both yawned, jaws cracking and ears popping.

The plane landed smoothly, and since it was a slow day they were able to get off the plane right away.

"Don't forget your book." he warned Maka, who still hadn't fully woken up. The thought of losing her precious novel seemed to snap her out of it, and she carefully put it in her bag, giving him a grateful smile. The crowd of people behind them nearly swept them off their feet as they exited the plane into the airport, and Soul yanked her to the side to let them pass while they got their bearings. They fought their way to the baggage carousel, wedging themselves between the jostling bodies until their bags circled around to them.

"It's too bad your brother couldn't meet us, but it was nice of him to rent a car for us, and let us use it during our stay." Maka said enthusiastically, excited to be able to poke around the area, which was one of her favorite parts of travelling.

"Hn. The cabin's too far out from anything, so we wouldn't be able to walk, even if it wasn't colder than a reindeer's ballsack." Soul explained as they made their way to the car rental kiosk.

"You always come up with the most charming analogies. Oh, there it is! She pointed to the right, and as they came closer, they saw that there was only one customer, and he was turning away to leave.

Maka checked her phone for messages while Soul picked up the keys and signed the papers, sending her father and Tsubaki a quick text to tell them she had landed. Soul called to her, and she followed him out to the parking area where the rental cars were parked. Icy air slammed into her lungs as they exited the building, and she zipped up her coat, glad she hadn't chosen to bring the lighter one. Sunlight reflected off of the snowy ground, making her squint, tears forming in her eyes. They stopped at a silver Ford Explorer, and Soul used the key he had been given to unlock the doors. Tossing their bags in the backseat, they got in and buckled up.

"You got the directions I gave you?" Soul asked as he started the engine, quickly turning on the seat warmers. He hated the cold.

Rummaging through the side pocket of her bag, Maka found the paper she was looking for. Wes had sent hand written directions, since the family cabin was in the mountains and off the main roads. In fact, it would take them about an hour to get there.

"Here it is! Before we leave town, we should pick up something to eat. Your brother mentioned he would be cooking tonight, but I have no idea what time that might be."

As if in agreement, Soul's stomach growled in response.  
"Yeah, breakfast wore off a while ago, and unless he's changed, he likes to eat late. Drive-thru okay with you?"

The seat began to warm her up, and she unzipped her coat to get comfortable for the ride. "Sure. We might as well fill up; we don't even know if he can cook very well." she joked, thinking of times they had been invited to people's houses for a meal, only to find that their host couldn't even make cup ramen without ruining it.

Soul eased out onto the highway, adjusting himself to driving on ice and snow. He was thankful he had taken that intensive driver's course that the school had offered, which taught them how to drive in all sorts of intense conditions, from rain to ice to bombs.

"Don't worry. He can." he answered dispiritedly, knowing that if Wes were to put his efforts into cooking, the results would be a younger, sexier Bobby Flay.

Concentrating on driving, he missed Maka's sharp look. She could feel the barriers he was putting up to come across as calm, but she could still catch the strain that ran through him. Suddenly, she worried that this trip might be more stressful on him than she had originally thought. Having no siblings herself, it was hard to relate, but it seemed as if Soul had some sort of problem with his brother that he wasn't sharing. What was the most troubling were the strands of fear and self doubt that she felt flickering through his soul, so subtle and faint she wasn't even sure if he was aware of them himself.

"Whatcha in the mood for, Taco Bell, or Burger King?"

His question cut through her thoughts, and she put them aside to deal with later.

"Hmmm, Burger King. I want a coke icee."

He snorted in disbelief, turning into the correct entrance, getting in line. "It's so cold, icicles could hang off your tits, and you want an icee? I swear, I'll never understand how your mind works."

Huffing, she crossed her arms, said tits shifting under her sweater in a distracting manner, making Soul's grip tighten on the wheel.

"Leave my tits out of this, thank you very much! Besides, I can't help it. When I have a craving, I have a craving."

They edged forward in line, and Soul rolled down his window to give their order. He eyed Maka questioningly.

"I want a ten piece order of chicken fries, and a large coke icee." she said, and he repeated it into the speaker, ordering a whopper and a large drink for himself.

He rolled up the window as soon as he was done. "Ten pieces? Hungry much?" he teased.

"No, I just know you'll end up eating half of them. like you do. Every. Single. Time."

He laughed guiltily, unable to refute her accusation.

Digging out his wallet, he counted out the bills, silently taking the correct change that Maka handed him. He fiddled with the radio till their order was ready, leaving it on a classic rock station, keeping the volume low. Passing the bag of food and the icee to Maka, he took a swig from his drink, then placed it in the cupholder. Maka took out his burger, half way unwrapping it so he could eat with one hand. She noticed that he headed for the edge of town, seeming to know where he was headed.

"Did you memorize the map?" she asked around a chicken fry.

Soul swallowed a bite of his whopper before answering. "Nah, I just remember part of the way to get there. it's pretty easy until we get higher in the mountains and the roads start to branch off. Some of them aren't marked very well."

"Did you used to come here often?" she asked, choosing to make no comment when he finished his food and blatantly started in on hers.

"Every year. We spent the entire month of December here for as long as I can remember. My great grandparents built the place, and it became sort of a tradition. The only reason my parents aren't here is because my dad got roped into filling in in a concert for a friend in Sweden who broke his wrist."

Maka was quiet. She knew that his parents didn't approve of his career choice, and that there was a lot of tension between them. If they had been here, she knew nothing would have induced Soul to come. The thought saddened her. Her relationship with her father wasn't perfect, but at least it wasn't cold, and she knew that in spite of his faults, he cared for her. She made a mental note to do something special for him when she got home.

Time for a subject change. "Wes said that he has season passes at one of the ski resorts. Can we go sometime? I think he mentioned it's the same one you used to go to when you were a kid." Maka was enthusiastic, since she rarely got a chance to do winter sports.

"Sounds good. Been a while since I got a chance to snowboard."

"Snowboard? Aaaw, I was hoping to see you on a pair of skis! Wes told me you used to be pretty good."

Soul grunted, wishing he had never given his brother the phone number of their apartment. "I was okay. Got a few trophies. May still have 'em, if my parents haven't tossed all my stuff out."

Maka turned her attention from the snow covered trees.  
"Why on earth would they do that? You should bring them home with you, if you can fit them in your bag. If not, we could have them shipped."

The coat he was wearing bunched up as his shoulders gave a tight shrug. "It's no big deal. They were all just for second place, anyway."

"So? Second place is still pretty good. You should be proud."

He gave a disbelieving laugh. "This comin' from the girl who nearly gave herself an ulcer studying to place first in the written exam?"

Her face scrunched at the memory. "That was different! I couldn't have stood it if Ox had beat me!" she defended herself.

"Yeah, that's my point." he said softly, then seemed to shake himself from his melancholy thoughts. "Could you check the directions? I think I should turn right up here, but I'm not sure."

Scanning the sheet of paper, Maka figured out where they were. "You were right. We turn right, go straight for about five miles, then turn right again onto this little trail thing." she confirmed.

Maka chose to remain quiet, letting Soul concentrate on driving. She contented herself with enjoying the scenery; the sky up here was so blue, the snow stretching out around them unbroken by anything but what she took to be animal tracks. They passed small streams, the water iced over, giving it the appearance of frosted glass. Beside her, Soul hummed along quietly to the radio, his fingers tapping out the beat on the steering wheel. The area had changed surprisingly little, and he wondered if it would be the same when he saw the cabin. It had been one of the few times he could remember enjoying with his whole family; for a short time, they took a break from pushing him about music and just let him relax.

XXX

Several more miles and a couple of twists and turns later, they were on the small, private road that lead to the cabin. Maka gasped as the building came into sight, its size not at all what she had been expecting.

"Soul! I thought this was supposed to be a cabin! That place has to be at least three stories!"

"Two. It just looks like three because of the attic. Geez, you dropped your jaw so hard, I think you may have dislocated it!"

Maka snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed. Soul was so low key, she always forgot how rich his family was. As they pulled into the drive, Maka got a better view of the place. Dark logs formed the building, with a sloping roof that had two chimneys. The front porch was screened in, and there were three small outbuildings close by, which Soul explained were for the wood, the wellhouse, and the generator, in case the power went out. He parked the car off to the side, next to a maroon pickup.

"Looks like he's already here. Guess the meeting with his manager didn't run as long as he thought it would." Soul said, hiding his disappointment. He had hoped to get settled in before facing his brother.

They got out and began to unload their things, dropping their bags at the sound of the screen door hitting the side of the house as it was thrown open, and a large, dark shape hurtled towards them.

"A horse!" Maka screamed, reflexively sliding into a fighting stance, momentarily lost when Soul didn't shift into weapon form.

Instead, his eyes bugged out, as if he had seen a ghost.  
"Limmy? Is that you?" he asked in a puzzled voice, as the shape resolved into a very large and affectionate great Dane that seemed intent on hugging him, his paws churning up snow.

"Soul? You know that dog?"

He looked at her over the dog's shoulder, still trying to make sense of it. "He looks exactly like a dog we used to have, but he can't be. If Limmy was still alive, he'd be at least ten, and this dog is barely older than a puppy. Aren't you boy?" he crooned to the dog, fondling its ears. The large animal whimpered in pleasure, snuffling its snout into Soul's ear.

Maka smiled softly as Soul gave a boyish laugh, the tension erased from his face, making him appear younger.

"Spartacus! Get back here!" came a deep voice from behind him. It was much like Soul's, but it lacked that husky, rumbly quality that made her heart beat faster. Turning, she saw a tall man walking across the yard. She could tell he must be Wes; he had the same bone structure and slightly shaggy hair as Soul, but his was a bit tamer and a pale blond instead of white. As he came closer, she could make out his eye color, which was a dark blue, bordering on black. He was wearing a black suit with a navy blue shirt, the lighter blue tie hanging around his neck as if he had been interrupted from changing.

The dog bounced between the two brothers, unable to decide which one was more likely to scratch his ears.

"I see you've met Spartacus; sorry about that, I'd meant to keep him shut in the den until you got here." Wes apologized, patting the dog on the neck, uncaring of the brown hair that drifted onto his pants.

"Yo, Wes. Is it my imagination, or does he look just like Limmy?" Soul asked, never being one to get all huggy and emotional, at least not with his family.

Wes smiled at him, showing blunt, normal teeth. "He does, doesn't he? Limmy died a little over a year ago, but he managed one last litter before he went, and Spartacus here was the only male." his attention turned to Maka, who had been silent, watching the way Soul stood perfectly straight, so different from his normally comfortable slouch. She knew he carried himself like that when he was defensive or uneasy, and she wondered if she should excuse herself or stay close.

"But I'm being rude. You must be Maka! It's a pleasure to meet you." he took her hand, startling her when, instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips to place a small, quick kiss on the fingers as he bowed. There was nothing romantic about it, it was just a common greeting in the circles he moved in. Even knowing this, Soul's blood began to simmer. He remembered what had been bugging him; for as long as he could remember, when there had been anything he really, truly wanted, Wes had ended up getting it instead. He never meant to take anything from Soul, but just the same, he always got the prize, while Soul looked on in defeat. As he followed them inside, the two of them laughing and chatting like old friends, he felt his red eyes bleed green, and vowed that this would be one time that his brother did not get the best of him.


	2. Chapter 2

The inside of the house was just as he remembered it; an entryway with a bench so you could sit and remove your boots, and a large closet to hold a family's worth of winter gear. They hung up their coats and tucked their shoes under the bench, so as not to get the hardwood floors wet. After the entryway was the living room, its furniture upholstered in shades of blue, black, and gray plaid, the sleek, black piano that was the twin to the one at the main house, The only new addition was the large flatscreen tv in the entertainment system. The door to the den, which was much like the living room but smaller and cozier, boasting a fireplace, was closed. Soul could see through to the attached dining room at the opposite end of the room, which led into the kitchen. A set of stairs in the living room led up to the second floor, and Wes gestured to them.

"Soul, I put you in your old room. Maka is next door in mine, since I wasn't sure if you two shared a room or not. Is that alright?"

Soul blushed, reminding himself that his brother wasn't rubbing in the fact that he and Maka didn't have that kind of relationship.

"That's fine. You in Mom and Dad's room, then?"

"Yes. I assumed the two of you wanted to be in the same part of the house. Would you show Maka the way? I'd like to finish changing."

"Sure. C'mon, Maka. Let's drop off our stuff."

Maka nodded, then edged Spartacus out of the way, still not entirely sure that he wasn't some rare breed of horse. The brothers hadn't really had the heartwarming reunion she had been hoping for, but that shouldn't have shocked her, given Soul's natural reserve. Maybe she had been watching too many Hallmark Channel movies.

Soul came to the first open door on the left, and went in, meaning to dump his things on the floor before showing Maka to her room. But she followed him in, making a beeline for the dresser, the top covered in trophies and ribbons from various events. She picked one up and studied it.

"Snow sculpture? Strange, I didn't peg you as the snowman type." she fingered the red ribbon before setting it back down, eyes trailing over the awards from skiing, ice skating, and a few more from snow sculpture.

His bag bounced onto the mattress, mussing the previously wrinkle-free navy blue comforter. "I'm not. It didn't have to be a snowman. One year, I think I even did a lion. So, what do you think of my brother? He usually leaves a pretty good first impression, even though it looks like he flustered you a little with the hand kissin' bit." he asked, trying to gauge how much headway Wes had already made.

Her eyes slid away from his, incoherent sounds the only noise she was capable of making. She became very interested in a particular whorl on a floorboard, and Soul felt his spirits sink. Although Maka was the last person he would expect to succumb to his brother's charms so easily, it fell in with the pattern he had observed all his life. If he didn't know any better, he would suspect Wes of being a witch.

"Like him that much, huh?" he spoke with a false lightness, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Not surprising, he's always had that eff-"

"Not like that! Good grief, how could you even think that! No, I was just thrown off by...by his..."

Okaaaay, not the usual fangirl response. "By his what?"

"His hands, okay! His hands!" she spat out rapidly, cursing her overactive imagination.

Soul was at a loss. What about 'em? They're just regular violinist hands."

More stuttering from the pigtailed wonder. "No, they're not. They're..."

What? Long? Strong? Able to play you like a violin? Soul mentally slapped himself at that last one, greatly thankful he hadn't spoken aloud.

"They made me think of...yaoi hands." she finally finished in a whisper, her voice filled with shame.

The room was filled with the loudest, craziest non-black blood induced cackle he had ever given, his hands clutching at his heaving sides as he doubled over.

"Y-yaoi hands! Oh god, that's too perfect! I have to tell him!"

"No! Soul, don't you dare!" Maka panicked, slapping at him futilely.

"Oh Weeeesss, Maka has something she wants to say to yoooou~!" he sang.

She pushed him to the bed, climbing on top of him and throttling his neck till he turned an alarming shade of blue, his belly laugh reduced to wheezing giggles and snorts.

"I see you two have settled in." came an amused voice from the doorway, and Maka whipped her head around, releasing her dizzy weapon before he could pass out.

"I-I was, that is, we-" she stumbled, searching for a believable explanation.

"No need to explain. Just make sure to use a safe word."

Maka fell into a fit of coughing, and Soul took his chance for revenge. "We were just talkin' about you. Maka thinks you have nice hands." he said wickedly.

Wes frowned, holding up his hands to study them. "Really? My ex-girlfriend said I had yaoi hands. Anyway, when you two are ready, come down and we can have some hot chocolate." he smiled politely, closing the door behind him.

The pair stared at each other for a moment, before collapsing into helpless laughter. Maka buried her face in his chest, feeling the reverberations from his shaking body, his arms resting on her back. Each time they started to get themselves under control, one would whisper, "Yaoi hands." in a dramatic voice, and they would be set off all over again. Bodies weak from mirth, they finally sat up, wiping tears from their eyes.

They stood, combing their hair out with their fingers so they would look half way presentable. Soul grinned at her, not dreading their stay here as much as he had before.

"You know, I'm really glad I didn't have to do this alone."

Maka returned his smile, taking his hand and squeezing it fondly. "You never have to do anything alone, Soul. You have me. Now, let's go! The man said something about hot chocolate, if I'm not mistaken."

Soul happily allowed her to tug him along after her, as puppylike as Spartacus, her words warming his heart.

XXX

They found Wes in the kitchen, Spartacus wedged under the table at his feet, large body mysteriously distorting space to confine himself to the small area. Wes glanced up from his phone, smiling a little at the sappy grin that Soul couldn't seem to wipe from his face.

"I was going to start the drinks, but I wasn't sure what the two of you would prefer. Just pick out whatever you would like, and I'll make it. We have a wide selection of teas, coffees, and hot chocolates to choose from. I'm not sure if Soul has told you this, Maka, but our family has a bit of a...drinking problem."

Maka laughed as Spartacus lumbered over to shove his head under her hand, forcing her to pet him. "Yeah, when he first told me, I thought he meant a problem with alcohol. He said there's that too, but it wasn't what he meant. I didn't understand until we went to the store for the first time, and he hit the coffee aisle like a kid in a candy store. He would have bought every flavor available, if I had let him."

Soul had wandered over to the large cabinets over the counter, and Maka giggled at the whimper he released when he saw their contents. It seemed as if every flavor and every brand of beverage that Wes had mentioned was stored there, and he drooled at the challenge of trying them all before their visit was over. With great deliberation, he picked out some mint Irish creme coffee, then held up some raspberry hot chocolate for Maka's approval. at her nod, he placed their selections on the counter, then flipped a chair around backwards and sat at the table.

"Nice choices." Wes complimented as he began to fix the drinks, retrieving two large maroon mugs from the cupboard that matched the one on the table containing his double chocolate hot chocolate with cinnamon swizzle stick.

Maka was having a hard time figuring out where to look, because while Wes had his back turned, Soul kept waving his hands and mouthing, 'Yaoi haaaaands' at her while making stupid faces. She knew she shouldn't find it as funny as she did, but she found it was difficult to choke back her snorts of laughter.

"You know, Soul, some people would say that we share the same hands, so you might want to stop drawing attention to it." came Wes' conversational tone from the stove, where he was heating the water.

Soul froze. He had forgotten how good Wes was at knowing precisely what he was up to. Between him and Maka, he had never gotten away with a shady action in his life. He looked at his hands, scowling.

"No way my hands are like yours." he finally pronounced uncertainly.

Wes shrugged as the water began to boil in the copper kettle. "Really? I'd say they were exactly alike. What would you say, Maka?"

Caught off guard, Maka didn't think before she spoke.  
"Soul, you have really nice pianist hands! They aren't anything like your brother's!"

Soul smiled smugly, and Maka slapped a hand over her mouth when Wes looked at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow quirked.

"No! I mean, Soul's hands are normal, and yours are- oh god! What I'm trying to say is-"

"Would you like to quit now, or shall I get you a shovel so you can dig yourself into an even deeper hole?" Wes drawled, a lazy, Soul-like smirk on his face.

Soul snickered behind his non-yaoi hands as Maka turned Rudolph nose red. She glared at them, eyes darting between the two brothers.

"Well, it's easy to see that you two are related. Jerks. Could one of you stop laughing long enough to tell me where the bathroom is?" she grumbled.

Taking pity on her, Wes answered, "Go through the opposite door in the living room. That leads into the den, and the bathroom will be on your right."

Quickly, Maka followed his instructions, a bit desperate since she hadn't been to the bathroom since this morning. That left the siblings alone, something that hadn't occurred since Soul had first enrolled in Shibusen. For the first time, Soul noticed the subtle signs of age on his brother. Wes had been nineteen when Soul left, and now at twenty five, his features had set, faint traces at the corner of his eyes that would become laugh lines in the years to come. Soul had to wonder if Wes could see the changes in him as well, or if he appeared as the same moody and insecure thirteen year old that had left home and family without a backwards glance.

Wes placed a steaming mug in front of Soul, taking a drink from his own as he observed his little brother over the rim. Soul nodded his thanks, blowing on the liquid before taking a small sip, savoring the flavor on his taste buds before it rolled down his throat, warming his insides in a comforting manner. He knew he should take this opportunity to speak privately with Wes like Maka had suggested, but he had no idea how to start.

"You know, when you first left to become a weapon, I did a bit of research. When I learned of the importance of the bond between weapon and meister, how integral they became to each other, I was worried. Ever since you were little, you've always had trouble letting people get close to you, letting them understand you. I was afraid people would be put off by your cynical, slightly twisted nature, and not bother to get to know you. But after meeting Maka, I can see I worried for nothing. The two of you seem to share a closeness not seen between many people, and I'm happy for you. You chose a good meister, Soul."

Soul swirled the contents of his mug, his brother's words bringing to mind the contrast in his life from before and after meeting Maka.

"Yeah, she's awesome. She's the best partner anyone could ask for. Without her, I'm not sure if I ever would've made Deathscythe level." he said honestly. It was true; before meeting Maka, he hadn't really had a plan, was just running from the pressures at home. Her drive and determination had given him a goal, something to focus on and work for, something he could be proud of. He would always be grateful to her for that.

Though Soul had never been an easy person to read, Wes could tell that the light blush on his cheeks had nothing to do with the heat from the coffee.

"So is that all she is to you? Just a meister? Is your partnership purely business related?" he questioned shrewdly, hiding his amusement at the trapped look that was rapidly forming on Soul's face.

"Ah, um, no! I mean, we're friends! really, really good friends! Never been anything more! That isn't to say I wouldn't like to, but I'm not sure if it would be such a good idea...there are a lot of issues, and...stuff..."

Soul wondered if Maka had accidentally flushed herself, and if not, could she please swoop in and rescue her poor, floundering weapon?

"Hmm. I see. Well, you better make up your mind. Maka is a charming girl with a lot of fine qualities, and other men are bound to notice that. Sooner or later, someone is going to try to become romantically involved with her, and when that happens, you may find you've waited too long." he said this with a pointed look that had the coffee in Soul's stomach churning in sick waves.

"OH MY GOD!"

Both men jumped at the scream that came from the other room, pushing their chairs back hastily to go find out what had happened. Wes was shocked by the speed with which Soul moved, almost unable to follow the motions. He had always been such a relaxed, laid back kid, moving through life at a leisurely pace. That all seemed to change when he thought his meister might be in danger. Wes and Spartacus followed, catching up to Soul at the door of the den, where he stood tensely, weapon ready to emerge from his body at any time.

"Maka! Are you okay? What happened?" he called, worry evident in his voice.

Slowly, she turned, her expression one of rapture, her eyes sparkling like diamonds in a Jared's commercial.

"Soul! I've just seen. The cutest thing. Ever." she said dreamily, turning back to face the slouchy, navy blue couch.

Soul came up behind her, curious as to what could be making Maka of all people swoon. A small, delicate 'yip!' came from the couch, and Soul had his answer. There, standing on the cushion with its tiny front paws on the headrest, was a miniature dachshund, Maka's one weakness. More than books, a wiener dog had the power to bring her to her knees. Without warning, and sensing it had found a worthy worshipper, it sprang at Maka, it's small body stretching towards her in the air.

Maka caught the little bundle of sleek, chocolate fur, noting it had a heart shaped black spot on one hip, much like a My Little Pony. She clutched it to her chest, melting when a soft pink tongue darted out to lick her chin. She had been taking her time, trying to give Soul a chance to talk to Wes, when she had felt his distress, and decided that she had been gone long enough. Leaving the bathroom, she had caught sight of the sleeping dog, and had yelled out without thinking.

Coming up to them, Wes reached out a hand to stroke the dog's head. "I forgot, Freya likes to sleep in here. I shut her in here so she wouldn't get under foot while you settled in. She seems to have taken a fancy to you, not that I can blame her."

Soul felt his eyelid twitch at Wes' smooth lines, and was thankful that Maka seemed oblivious to anything that didn't have to do with the dog.

"She's so adorable! How old is she? It looks like she's pretty young."

"She's six months. I got her a few months ago from a friend; I had spent the night at his place, and she became attached to me. We didn't realize quite how attached until I made it home the next day, and found she had snuck along in my bag. I took her back, but she wouldn't stop whimpering and crying, so my friend ended up giving her to me as an early Christmas present."

Soul watched as she continued to fondle the beast, privately wishing he could take it's spot. "Am I gonna have to check your bags before we leave to make sure you don't try to sneak her along?" he asked, only half jokingly. The woman really did love wiener dogs.

She spared him a brief glance, pouting. "I would never steal someone else's dog, Soul."

"Steal, no. Bring along for a visit of undetermined length? Yes." he shot back, years of experience had made him aware she would find some type of loophole.

Wes laughed at the pair, causing Maka to grumble something under her breath.

"So glad I could provide amusement. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go unpack. See you later." and with that, she marched from the room, Freya's head popping up to watch them over her shoulder.

"You should probably go unpack, too. Take Maka's drink with you, and I'll get started on supper. When it's ready, I'll give a shout."

"If you're sure you don't want any help." Soul answered, secretly glad to escape. He was going to have to ease into talking to Wes, especially if Maka was going to be a main point of conversation, which he suspected she was. Detouring into the kitchen for their drinks, he made his way upstairs, careful not to spill the contents of the mugs.

XXX

A quick glance in his room told him she had gathered her things and moved into Wes' old room, right next to room was almost identical to his, with the color of the bedding being green instead of blue. Maka was in the process of transferring her clothes from her bags to the dresser as Freya watched from her perch on the bed. Soul set her mug on the dresser, then sat down at the desk that was placed by the window.

"You should unpack too, before your stuff gets messed up." she said, as she stuffed a pile of sweaters in the second drawer.

"Hn. I'll do it later. Hey, your drink's gettin' cold."

Maka shoved the drawer closed, picking up her mug and taking a grateful sip. Soul grinned as she gave a contented moan; it seemed he had successfully infected her with his love of hot, flavored beverages. As she enjoyed her drink, she leaned her back against the dresser, bracing her socked feet on the floor.

"So, did you have a good talk with your brother?"

Soul nearly spat out his coffee. "Uh, yeah. Was fine." he answered unconvincingly.

"Really? Because it felt like you were getting pretty uncomfortable near the end." she pressed.

He finished off the rest of his drink, swallowing loudly as he set the mug on the desk behind him.

"Wes was just sayin' that it looked like I'd picked a good meister. Guess I'm just not used to talkin' to him much. Don't worry about it."

But she did worry about it. The longer they were here, the more distant and cut off she could feel him becoming. She knew there was something wrong, and she hated being unable to help him. She walked across the room, placing her mug next to his, and squeezing his shoulder.

"Soul, I can tell something's wrong. Am I that unreliable of a partner?" she asked quietly, remembering a time years ago when she had spoken the same words.

Soul remembered too, darting her a glance from under the hair that fell into his eyes without a headband to keep it in place. More mature now, he knew a flippant answer would only hurt her more.

"It's not...not like that was, okay? It's just little, stupid shit that's not worth talkin' about. Trust me, if it gets bad, I'll tell you, but I'm pretty sure I'll get over it once I stop thinkin' about the past so much."

She brushed his bangs out of the way so she could see his eyes better. "Are you sure? It feels more like you'll just pull farther away...unless that's what you need, and you want me to leave you alone..."

He grabbed her arm, preventing her from walking away. That was the last thing he wanted. Though he wasn't ready to talk, her presence was soothing, and for now, that was enough.

"No! I don't want you to...I don't want to be...arrrgh! Just, stay with me, alright?" his voice broke in frustration, unable to tell her he needed her without sounding clingy and pathetic.

Maka was happy to get that much out of him; Soul never asked for things like that, so she would count this as progress. "Fine. Just remember you can tell me about whatever is bothering you."

"Sure. You can go ahead and finish unpacking now, I can go back to my room."

He watched as she went back to the bed, removing the suitcase, shoving it under the bed.

"I'm already finished. I wanted to snuggle before we had to go down." she said, crawling onto the mattress.

Soul was glad he had finished the drink, because he surely would have sprayed it all over the room.

"You want to...snuggle?" he choked out, unable to believe his good luck. The high altitude must be messing with her.

"Of course! How could I resist this cutie?" she scooped Freya up to her chest as she lay down on her side, missing the way Soul's shoulders sagged with deflated hope. The dog. Of course. Really, what had he expected?

He stood, ready to slink to his room. "Yeah, you do that. See you later." He was halfway across the room when her voice stopped him.

"Why don't you stay with us? There's plenty of room."

Standing there, he pretended to hesitate. While having a dog strategically placed between them was less than ideal, it was a start.

"Sure, I could use a nap." his off-handed tone belied his satisfaction as he slid onto the bed, petting the dog as an excuse to keep his hand close to hers. Freya wiggled a bit, her movement causing their fingers to brush together. Neither made an effort to pull away, instead resting their hands next to each other on the warm back of the dog. As he watched Maka's eyelids flutter closed, Soul decided he might just like the little wiener after all.

XXX

A few hours later, Soul blearily opened his eyes, disoriented to find his forehead pressed against Maka's. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked down to see what had woken him up. Freya was using one delicate paw to tap at his chest, her nails barely able to be felt through his sweater. Once she had his attention, she gazed up at him with large brown eyes, then rolled her body in a manner that somehow managed to transfer his hand from her back onto Maka's breast. Oh. That was nice...SHIT! No it wasn't! He drew back his hand like she was on fire, sending up prayers of thanks that she hadn't woken up. Glaring down at the troublemaker, his aggravation melted when she licked his chin. God, he was such a sucker.

"Bad dog. You're gonna get me killed if you do stuff like that. Cool guys only do that sort of thing when the girl's awake. And wants it. Neither of which is the case here." he whispered, Freya wagging her whip-like tail at his words.

"Come on down, guys! Time to eat!" Wes' voice floated up the stairs, and Soul sat up, giving Maka a poke in the shoulder.

"Hey, sleeping beauty. You need to wake up."

Maka burrowed into the pillow, clutching Freya so tightly that the poor dog's eyes nearly popped out.

"Noooooo. Jus' a lil' longer."

"Maka, you're gonna choke the poor dog to death."

"woof!"

Instantly, Maka sat up, checking Freya for damage.

"You poor thing, I'm so sorry!" she gave her a chin scratch in apology, the dog's eyes closing in bliss.

"Hate to interrupt your little love fest, but Wes said dinner's ready." Soul teased, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.

Maka gently placed Freya on the floor, then used the mirror over the dresser to fluff up the flattened section of her hair from her nap.

They followed the waddling dog out the door and down the stairs, where they were met with the delicious scent of dinner wafting through the air, making their mouths water with anticipation. Lunch had been okay, but homemade beat fast food any day of the week.

Entering the kitchen, they found the small table set for three, with brown, orange and yellow checked placemats that looked like they were from the sixties or seventies. Matching brown earthenware plates and cups completed the look. Wes was just setting out a large bowl of rice, servings of what appeared to be trout already on each plate.

"Have a seat. I'll join you as soon as I get the asparagus off the stove."

Soul sat at the opposite end of the table from Wes' place, leaving Maka in the middle. Wes joined them, passing around the steaming asparagus that he had sautéed in garlic. Maka and Soul both loaded their plates, along with the rice and hot rolls, the butter melting into the warm, soft bread.

"I'll take your trout if you're not gonna eat it. I know you're not really big on fish." Soul offered, doubly pleased that he was getting fish, and that Wes had picked something she didn't like right off the bat.

"You don't like fish? I'm sorry, I should have checked to see if there were any foods that you couldn't eat." Wes apologized.

Maka shot Soul a hard look, embarrassed by his rudeness. "I like fish just fine, as long as it's not raw."

She took a dainty bite of fish to be polite, the tender white meat flaking off her fork into her mouth. Her eyes widened.

"Oh wow! This is really, really good, Wes! You'll have to show me how you do this, so I can cook it at home." she gushed, excited to find a fish that both she and Soul could enjoy.

"I caught these myself. I'll send you some, if you'd like. How's yours, Soul?"

Soul stabbed his fish viciously. Of course it was perfectly cooked. And of course he had caught them himself. He had probably waded out and caught them bare handed. Naked.

"It's good. When did you take up cooking?"

Wes sipped his water, the ice clinking against the rim.

"Back when I moved out. Takeout and restaurants can only go so far, so I took a cooking class. That's where I met my ex girlfriend."

"Ex? So you're single now?" Soul asked, his fish threatening to swim upstream.

"Hm. For about a month. I travel a lot, and it put a strain on her. We're still close, though."

Not close enough, in Soul's opinion, as he watched the other two carry on a conversation about cooking.

"Hey, Wes? I was wonderin'. Do you have anything planned for while we're here? I know at least one day, Maka was hoping we could go skiing."

"There are a lot of things to do, if you're interested. Skiing, of course, and then there's the snow sculpture contest, and the midnight ice-skating. I'm afraid you'll be on your own tomorrow. My manager had to reschedule, so I'll be gone for most of the day. How about we go skiing the next day? That'll give you a full day to relax and hang out here, or wander around town. There are some really nice shops and galleries, and the food around here is delicious."

"Would've ben even better if we had come in the summer. Then we could've gone to the jazz festival." Soul grumbled, scraping up the last of his rice.

Wes laughed. "If I had invited you then, we wouldn't have seen you the whole trip! And while that would have given me a chance to get to know Maka better," Soul's grip tightened on his fork at those words. "I wouldn't have gotten to spend any time with you. Maka, you're being awfully quiet. Did I mention anything that might interest you?"

Maka looked up from her plate, were she had been mourning her lack of more fish. "Everything sounded really fun! Soul, if you don't mind, can we go into town tomorrow? There's a modern art gallery that I'd like to see. You can pick lunch, my treat."

"Sounds good to me, as long as we don't have to get up early. There's a couple of places I wanted to check out, too. Are the stores I asked you about still there, Wes?"

Nodding, Wes stood and began to gather the dishes. "They are. Since it sounds like you're planning on having a big lunch, are sandwiches okay for tomorrow night?"

Soul looked at Maka, who nodded. "We can make our own when we get back, Wes. You don't need to cook for us every meal. Soul and I are used to cooking for ourselves."

"Not a problem. I enjoy doing it, but if you want to make your own tomorrow, that's probably best, since that way you don't feel like you need to hurry back. Oh, don't bother with those. I'll finish them after I take the dogs out." he said to Maka, who had moved to the sink to wash the dishes.

"If you're sure...well, it's after nine, and I'm a little tired, so I think I'll go on up and read for a while before I go to sleep. Thanks again for having us, and dinner was wonderful!"

"Glad you enjoyed it. See you in the morning. Soul, are you going up, too?"

"Yeah, I still need to unpack. Night, Wes. We can talk later, 'kay?" Soul stood, fighting back a yawn. The nap he had earlier wasn't long enough to make up for the sleep he had missed the last two days.

"Any time. Oh, if you hear any howling during the night, it's just Spartacus. Poor guy has nightmares sometimes."

"Huh. Weird. Oh, I meant to ask; does he share the same trait as Limmy?" Soul asked curiously, as the dog in question leaned against his leg.

Wes grimaced. "You know how 'Limmy' was short for Limburger? Spartacus' real name is Fartacus. Draw your own conclusions. But be warned, he's even more sensitive about it than his father was. You might want to give Maka the heads up."

Soul grinned wickedly, pushing in his chair. "Nah, let her find out for herself."

"You always were such a twisted boy." Wes sighed dramatically as he put the last of the leftovers in the fridge. He turned in time to see Soul flinch back at his words.

"I was joking, Soul. It's just a farting dog. I don't think that's quite enough to qualify you as the Antichrist." he lightly punched Soul on the shoulder, a bit surprised at the feel of muscle under his knuckles instead of the bony arm he had been used to. It was just another sign that his brother had grown up, and Wes was once again hit with sadness over all that he had missed. But it had been Soul's choice to have as little contact as possible, and while it hurt, he respected his decision.

"I know. It just made me think of something...anyway, I'm goin' up. See ya." with a wave, he left the kitchen, slowly climbing the stairs. Wes had been right. He had always been twisted. Sometimes he wondered if that bothered Maka, if it would affect how she answered him if he ever managed to tell her how he felt about her. Black Blood aside, could she love someone with madness in their soul? He was afraid to find out. Seeing the light from under her door, he raised his hand to knock, then lowered it. She would be able to tell he was upset, and he was too tired to make excuses, something he could tell he would be doing a lot of during their stay here. Instead, he went to his room, hoping his sleep tonight would be dreamless.

XXX

Wes finished up downstairs, letting the dogs out for a quick run, making sure Freya's little purple boots were securely on her feet, matching her jacket. Once the dogs were in for the night, he went to his room, where he got ready for his evening ritual. logging on to his laptop, he changed into his sleepwear of flannel pants and black T-shirt with the words, 'I 3 Soma' on it. Typing in his Tumblr password, he reviewed his plan.

Though it was true that he missed his brother, he had ulterior motives for inviting them here. They were here to feed his addiction. For Wes, thanks to his ex-girlfriend, was a shipper. It had started with one show, but quickly spread to others, branching out to include books and comics. It hadn't affected his real life until this past spring, when he had gone to Soul's graduation. Yes, Soul had given him the wrong day, but Wes had called the school to confirm, and then had shown up without letting his little brother know he would be there. He had meant to watch the ceremony and then slip away quietly, but before it had even began, he had caught sight of Soul and a slender girl with green eyes and pigtails. Watching them interact, he realized this must be Maka, the meister he had heard about.

Anyone could see the closeness and affection that the two shared, and the sexual tension was so thick it could have been sliced up and served like steak. His shipper senses went off like a fire alarm, and he knew that this girl was meant to be with his brother. Knowing Soul would never confide in him willingly, he had sought out a member of the faculty to try to get some bearing on the pair. Much to his surprise, it had been Maka's father, and through the man's alternating between protective threats against Soul and copious weeping over his daughter, Wes was able to piece together enough information to figure out that they were crazy for each other, but both too stubborn, for whatever reason, to make the first move.

Wes had gone home to think, the problem niggling at him for months. Finally, he was struck with a plan. Whenever their parents had tried to motivate Soul as a child, they would always set Wes as an example, because Soul had always looked up to his brother, wanting to achieve the same things he did. Soul was generally laid back, never seeming to put much effort into anything that wasn't a competition. Wes figured that would work in his favor now. He would drop hints to Soul that he was interested in Maka, maybe do a little light flirting. Nothing major, since he didn't want to give the girl the wrong idea. Just enough to shake his brother's complacency. Judging by the way Soul had glared at him when he had kissed her hand, all it would take would be a few smiles and a friendly pat on the arm, coupled with some well placed private comments to Soul. He also had some plans that would throw them into some romantic situations while they were here, giving Soul ample opportunity to ensure that he didn't board his flight home as a single man.

He looked down at the tiny dog snuggled into his side, then at the larger dog draped over his feet.

"Well, you two, we have our work cut out for us. Something tells me this won't be as easy as I had hoped."

What awakened Soul the next morning was the soft, warm breath on his neck, and the feel of a body pressed up to his back. He grinned. So she had gotten cold and snuck into his bed! She was too cute for words. Rolling over to face her with the intent of wrapping his arm around her waist, he was brought up short by the velvety muzzle of Spartacus, who was gazing at him adoringly. Any lingering traces of friskiness were erased when the dog gave him a big, sloppy wet kiss, from chin to hairline.

"Good mornin' to you too." Soul sighed as he sat up, wiping his face with the front of his shirt. Glancing at the digital alarm clock on the small bedside table, he saw that he had slept in longer than he had intended. Kicking off the blankets, he darted to the dresser and pulled out some clothes, changing quickly. Clad in dark jeans and a maroon sweater with thin gray lines across the chest, he ran a comb through his hair and jammed on a narrow,black plastic headband, nearly tripping over Spartacus as he turned to leave the room.

At the top of the stairs, he was disappointed not to smell breakfast, but then remembered that Maka was planning on them having a large lunch. He went down, the sound of toenails clicking on the hardwood floor behind him. In the living room, he could hear voices coming from the kitchen, and went to investigate, cursing himself for not waking up earlier. From now on, he would be more careful about setting the alarm.

As he entered the kitchen, he was met with the sight of Wes and Maka, sitting at the table and laughing over something one of them had said. Maka noticed him first, waving at him as he came in.

"Morning, Soul! I was just about to call you. There's some cereal on the table; would you like me to get you some orange juice?"

"Yeah, thanks. Hey, Wes. How long you guys been up? You could've knocked on my door." is what his mouth said, but his eyes were saying, what the fuck were you doing alone with Maka all this time?

Wes, being the good older brother that he was, heard both questions.

"Oh, not too long. We already ate, but we decided you were probably tired, so we let you sleep longer." She's a charming and delightful girl, why wouldn't I want to get to know her better?

The two traded looks over the table, Soul's irritated and tinged with jealous insecurity, Wes' calm and amused.

Maka turned from where she had been pouring juice at the counter, her attention going to Soul.

"Soul, are you alright? If you're not feeling well, we can stay here today." she said with concern, thinking he may be coming down with a cold.

Soul plastered the first of many fake smiles to come on his face, hiding his unease about his brother's interest in his meister.

"No, just thinkin' about what we're gonna do for lunch. You said I could pick, but I'm not really sure what's around here anymore." he tried to put her at ease as he crunched away at his cereal.

Maka joined him at the table, sitting down as she handed him a tumbler of juice. She was already dressed to go, wearing chocolate corduroy pants and a knit hunter green sweater that had a high, slouchy neck with decorative wooden buttons. Soul took the glass with a quiet thanks, gulping it back to wash down a mouthful of cereal. Wes pretended not to notice as he sipped his coffee and read the newspaper, but his eye took in every word and gesture between the other two, from the way their fingers brushed together as she passed him the glass, to the expression on her face as she watched Soul finish his breakfast.

"I know I said that, but I looked up restaurants last night, and I think I found one you'll like, if you don't mind."

Soul shrugged, not really caring what they did, as long as it was just the two of them. He had the premonition that Wes was going to become a thorn in his side.

"That's better than wanderin' around and lookin' for a place. You got the address?"

Maka smiled, pleased that he had given in so easily. She had researched very carefully, and had found a place that she thought would surprise him.

"Yup! Are you ready to go? I thought we could look around for a while before lunch."

"Yeah, let me get my shoes on. See ya later, Wes. Not sure when we'll be back. Is that gonna be a problem?" Soul asked as he carried his bowl and glass the the sink to rinse them out.

Wes folded his paper, standing as he took a quick look at his watch, smoothing the material of the suit he had worn yesterday, now free of dog hair. "My meeting will last several hours, and there are some other things I need to take care of as well. Go ahead and enjoy today. I'll make sure that I spend as much time as possible with the two of you for the rest of your stay."

Soul turned his head sharply, hearing the underlying meaning to those words. Wes had basically just told him to enjoy being alone with Maka, because he wouldn't be getting another chance for the next ten days.

He followed Maka to the entryway, absently putting on the shoes, and then the coat that she handed to him. Deep in thought over how he could keep Wes from getting too chummy with Maka, he opened the door and was about to step through, when he heard a cough behind him.

"Um. Soul, that's the closet. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

His cheeks burned from the blush that spread over his face, the laughter he could detect in her voice doing nothing to help. Why did he have to flake out now? Wes would never do something so stupid. He was always so charming and refined, while Soul was...well, not.

Unable to look at her, he kept his head down, this time going through the right door, the cold, stinging air feeling good on his heated cheeks. They crunched through the thin layer of snow that stretched across the yard, getting into the car with chattering teeth. At least it would be warmer further down the mountain. Soul had never been fond of being cold, and he noticed that even Maka was wearing her hair down for the added warmth to her ears.

The drive to town was quiet, a comfortable silence falling between them. After so many years together, they knew when words would just be in the way, and could appreciate the time together without them. Once in town, Maka directed him to the street where the art gallery was located, and he found a parking spot about three doors down.

The sidewalks were busy as people bustled about, getting in their last minute Christmas shopping. Though it was warmer here than it had been at the cabin, they were both glad to step into the warmth of the gallery, the holiday music and voices from the crowd muffled as they shut the door behind them. The building was well lit, the lights arranged to show the art to its best advantage. Each artist had their work set up in an individual group, small spaces separating them from the others. It was a large, two story building, and Soul could tell they would most likely be there all morning, since Maka liked to study each piece. He didn't mind too much since it was modern art, and not an endless sea of nude women, ugly babies, and strangely ill-proportioned livestock.

There were few other people there, and after a redhead in a sleek black dress had glided up to them and told them to ask her if they had any questions, they began a circle of the room, starting on the right side, working their way to the stairs on the left.

They were both impressed by they talent that was displayed, and the variety and creativity of the subject matter. Some were simply beautiful, like the sparkling landscapes that Maka had moved on to view, while others were morbidly compelling, such as the painting of the cat that was eating itself that Soul couldn't seem to tear his eyes from, until Maka called for him to move on. He hurried to her, knowing he was going to have some seriously creepy dreams about that one. Then they stumbled onto a section of bizarre nudes, with the women portrayed as having giant, brightly colored balloons instead of breasts, and the man lounging on a couch with a balloon tied in the shape of a dog for the penis.

Soul shrugged. "Well, to be honest, when I was a kid, breasts did look like they were poppable, so I guess I can see where the artist is comin' from." he said in response to her obvious struggle to understand.

She waved at the man on the couch. "Then how do you explain this one?"

"Just think of all the great pick-up lines. Soul grinned. "hey baby, wanna see my dog do a trick?"

Maka giggled, getting into the spirit. "Sure, I'll make him sit up and beg!"

"You want doggie style? With me, every position is doggie style!"

They snickered and snorted like children that had learned a new bad word, until some of the other customers began to shoot them glares. Slinking away, they finished up, and when Maka checked her phone for the time as they got to the door, she saw that it was a little past twelve. She was hungry herself, so she knew Soul had to be starving.

"Soul, are you ready for lunch? The restaurant is about six blocks away." she asked as they slowly walked in the direction of the car.

"I could eat Black*Star under the table right about now. Let's go ahead and drive, and then we can walk to the places I had wanted to check out."

"Where are we going? I forgot to ask." Maka hopped into the passenger seat, waiting for him to start the engine.

Soul watched the traffic carefully as he backed out and drove in the direction of the street that Maka had given him earlier. There's a place I remember from when I was a kid that I wanna show you. It's a surprise."

"Hm. A surprise. I don't really know whether to be excited or worried. Slow down, it should be this next street."

He ignored her dry tone and turned where she indicated, correctly assuming that their destination was the small building with the green and black awning.

"So what made you pick this place?" he asked as they crossed the parking lot, where they could just make out the small sign that said, 'Bella'.

Maka smiled up at him. "You're not the only one with surprises." she said mysteriously.

They entered the small restaurant, and stood waiting to be seated. It was a small, dimly lit building with small tables and plush leather booths, perfect for couples, which, Soul noticed as they were lead to a booth in the back, accounted for most of the customers. He removed his coat and slid in the seat in front of Maka, and raised an eyebrow at her across the table as the waitress handed them forest green leather-bound menus and left.

"You do remember you offered to pay, right?" not that he really minded; they had long ago given up keeping track of who paid for what.

She spared him a brief look over the top of her menu. "Yes, I still plan on paying. Have you seen anything you like yet?"

Squinting, Soul tried to make out the impossibly small cursive script. "It's kinda hard to tell. Maybe the next time the waitress comes, she'll bring us a flashlight."

Rolling her eyes, Maka slid closer to the wall. "Come over here, the light's better on this side."

Soul left his coat and joined her on the other side, realizing for the first time how small the seats were. Their thighs were pressed together, and the backs of their hands bumped against each other whenever they turned a page.

Maka pointed to an item in the lower left hand corner. "Why don't you try this? The review I read online said it was supposed to be really good."

Soul followed her finger, lighting up at the description of the tuna and salmon carpaccio. That must have been the surprise she had been talking about; she knew him so well!

"That looks awesome! Thanks, Maka." he closed his menu happily, already feeling the tender fish sliding down his throat.

"You looked like you could use something to cheer you up last night." Maka laid her menu on the table, her eyes tracking Soul's line of vision. A couple in a booth across the room were sitting much like she and Soul were, but the man had his arm around the woman, his other hand holding hers as they shared small kisses. They weren't making out, but it was definitely an intimate scene.

"Soul..."

At her voice, he jerked his attention back to their table, afraid that she was going to ask him to move back to his seat. He had hoped that it would have gone unnoticed and he could stay close to her, but he prepared to move as soon as she gave the word.

"You haven't seemed right since we got here. Are you really okay? And are you going to spend any more time with Wes?"

Stalling, he took a drink from his water glass, the ice knocking into his teeth.

"Sorry. It's just that coming up here again and seein' my brother brings back a lot of memories, and not all of them are that great, you know? I'll talk to Wes some more. I just gotta ease into it. It's funny; I thought I was ready to do this, but I get up here and I feel like I'm twelve years old all over again."

They were interrupted by the waitress, who quickly took their orders of carpaccio and carbonara and quietly departed.

Placing her hand on his, Maka squeezed, giving him a look of understanding.

"But you're not twelve anymore. You're nineteen, almost twenty. You're a man now, a three star Deathscythe, not a little boy. Whatever it was like between you and Wes before has changed, and you can face him as an equal, so don't be so nervous."

Soul relaxed, uplifted not so much by her words as by her faith in him. She was right. He was no longer a child, and Wes was no longer the idol he had to strive to emulate. As long as he remembered that, he should be fine. And as for Wes' interest in Maka, well, that was something that had to go both ways, and Maka had never been one to be swayed by sweet words and a handsome face.

He tightened his grip on her hand, smirking at her. "True. And I've got a pretty cool partner to back me up, so I'm even a step ahead of him."

Maka blushed, never sure how to respond when he complimented her like that. She wished she knew how serious he was about those things. It would make it much easier for her to express her own feelings if she knew they would be received in a positive manner.

Their food arrived remarkably fast, living up to the restaurant's reputation for good service. Soul kept a tight rein on his drool as he unrolled his silverware and placed his napkin in his lap. As the flavors of the first bite exploded on his tongue, he nearly swooned; if they ever came back to Aspen, this place was on his list of places to eat again. He paused to see if Maka was enjoying her food too, only to find her in the same state of bliss. Hmm, hers did look awfully good. Maybe she wouldn't mind if he just took one little...

"Try it and you'll be pulling back a bloody stump, Soul Eater." she warned, pulling her plate away protectively. At his pathetic attempt at puppy eyes, which only served to make him look like a feeble minded shark, she relented.

"Oh, fine! One bite! A small one though!"

He raised a forkfull of the pasta dish to his mouth, and relived his previous experience. Damn. They really were going to have to come back here sometime.

Both went back to their respective meals, savoring each bite until they were left with plates that had been scraped so clean you could almost reuse them.

"I hope you two enjoyed your meal. Did you save any room for dessert?" their waitress asked as she cleared their plates.

At their muffled groans of refusal, she further tempted, "Our special today is carmel crème brûlée. It's very good."

They exchanged a wordless glance. If they ate one more bite, they would regret it.

So of course, they said yes.

"Ugggh, I ate too much. Soul, you may have to roll me to the car. I don't think I'll be eating anything for the rest of the trip." Maka moaned as they walked out the door. It had been expensive, but worth every penny.

"I feel the same way...but gimme an hour and I could probably eat again."

Maka wrinkled her nose. "You're such a pig. Which way do we go now?"

"Please, no mention of pork products yet. And the place I had in mind should be two streets over. Can you make it, or should I start rolling you?"

"Then let's go, it's too crowded to stand here." she took his hand, pulling him along in the direction he had turned.

He looked down at their joined hands. It was nice to be able to do this without the excuse of resonating, or comforting her. The whole day had been nice actually, almost like a date. Though it was normal for them to walk around Death City together, they always ran the risk of running into someone they knew, as was the case more often than not. Here, they could forget being weapon and meister, and just enjoy being Soul and Maka, something he was hoping would lead to more.

They made their way slowly, jostled by the other shoppers, looking into windows as they passed, nothing catching their interest enough for them to go in anywhere. Maka became confused as they neared the end of the last street. Had Soul gotten his directions mixed up?

"Here it is. I think you're gonna really like this place." he sounded pleased with himself as he led Maka into the sprawling, signless building on the corner.

Immediately, she knew what kind of store it was, even before her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting. The scent of old books filled her nostrils, that unmistakable mixture of slightly moldy pages and worn leather. Trancelike, she began to roam from shelf to shelf, finding that the store was like a rabbit's warren, one room leading into one or two others, farther and farther back, with signs pointing the way to lead to every subject imaginable.

Soul followed her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, watching in fond amusement as she seemed to float off in her own little world. The stack she was carrying began to grow, and he went back to the front for a basket to put them in, laughing a little when she snapped out of it to glare at whoever was trying to take her beloved books from her hands, only to discover it was Soul. She blinked at him, as if she had forgotten he was even there. She probably had.

"Oh! Thanks, I needed that. Sorry, guess I lost track of where I was." she explained sheepishly, arranging her books in a practiced manner so she could fit in more.  
"'S'fine. I've noticed you've hit pretty much every section except romance. What's wrong, are you that against the idea of love?" he slipped this question in, his casual expression belying his eagerness for her response. If he could just figure out where she stood on the subject, maybe he would have a better chance with her.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to word her reply. "It's not that I'm against love. I just don't like how most romance novels portray it. It's always so dramatic and unrealistic, and in a lot of cases, just a vehicle for sex. None of it is anything I would look for in real life." her answer was slow, as if it was something that she thought about a lot, and took seriously.

"So, if someone said they were in love with you, and asked you out, you'd give them a shot?" he was close now. So very close.

She shook her head vehemently. "Of course not! I wouldn't go out with just anyone. It would have to be someone I could see having a relationship with. Casual dating isn't really my thing. Why the sudden interest? Has someone said anything I should know about?"

Under her suspicious gaze, he faltered. Danger, Will Robinson! Abort! Abort! He decided that was enough for now. She was open to the idea, and that was a start.

"Nah, just curious. Want me to take these to the front and have them put them behind the register? That way you could look around more without lugging these with you."

"Yeah, that would be nice. I'll be over there when you get back."

He made his escape, knowing she would have forgotten everything by the time he got back.

They ended up spending several hours in there, and when they finally emerged, it was with the addition of three large bags.

"You do realize you're gonna have to buy another suitcase just to get all these home, right?" Soul grunted as he hefted the bag he had been stuck with, not even wanting to imagine what the airline was going to charge on them.

"I'll manage something. Don't underestimate me. Wasn't there one other place you were wanting to go? Is it close?"

"It's actually right over there. Are you gonna be alright carrying those for a while?" he asked as they crossed the street to a smaller building.

"Don't worry about me. It's a good way to help work off that huge lunch we had."

She had to smile a little as they entered this shop, as his features brightened with excitement, much as hers had at the used bookstore's. This was Soul's domain. A music store, with an old school feel. Along with the expected CDs were records, which Soul gravitated to, Maka trailing in his wake. Lovingly, he pulled several from a shelf, eyeing the cover art covetously. Getting the storekeeper's attention, they were directed to a listening room in the back, where they sat down in comfortable chairs while Soul happily set up the record player.

Maka watched for a while, entranced by the look of ecstatic concentration on his face. The moments she got to see him passionate about music were few and far between, so she drank it up, until she grew self-conscious and afraid that he would catch her staring like one of his old fangirls.

She pulled out a book, halfheartedly reading it as she snuck peeks at him from over the top. His eyes were closed, his lips twitched up in a small smile as his fingers tapped the beat on his thigh. She wondered what he was thinking, and if he ever looked like that while thinking about her. Her face became warm, and she raised her book higher. She needed to stop with these dangerous thoughts; though Soul had been sweet and considerate today, he would most likely be horrified if she took it in a romantic way. He was her partner and her friend, and as the years had passed, the probability that he would see her in a different light had surely dwindled. They had a close, easy friendship, and she wouldn't risk it by rocking the boat now. At least, not unless he showed some more positive signs. His questions in the bookstore had gotten her hopes up, but he hadn't chosen to pursue them. Maybe she should find a way to drop hints without having to come right out and reveal her feelings.

Losing track of time as she mulled her options, she almost missed it when he got up and began to gather the records, sorting out the ones he wanted to buy. She tucked her book back into the bag, and followed him to the cash register. Once he had paid, they set out for the car, happy for how the day had turned out.

Maka nearly fell asleep on the drive home, since it was dark out and the seat warmers were on high, but she fought the feeling off, determined to stay awake, making sure Soul didn't drift off at the wheel.

XXX

The moon shone down brightly on the snow, the reflection glowing an eerie blue, broken only by the shadows of the trees. In the distance, something howled, a sad, mournful noise that pierced the night air. As they carried their bags to the house, headlights cut across them, signalling Wes had arrived home late as well. He parked his truck next to them and got out, his long black dress coat flapping around his legs as he joined them.

"Looks like your trip went well. Are you enjoying your stay in Aspen so far, Maka?" he asked, unlocking the door and holding it open for them, Spartacus barreling past them outside, Freya dancing at the door, refusing to go out and get her paws wet and cold.

"It's wonderful! The food is so good, and the art, and the bookstore...I told Soul we might have to relocate!" she gushed, setting her bags on the bench as she took off her coat and boots, storing them in the closet.

Wes chuckled as he did the same. "Even if you don't relocate, you're always more than welcome to join me here. You too, Soul."

Soul fought back a snarl, not wanting to let Wes rile him up in front of Maka.

"First, you'd have to guarantee that I wouldn't ever run in to our parents. Second, if we did come up here that often, there are plenty of hotels or places to rent. So thanks, but no thanks." Soul smiled the falsely polite smile he had learned from a young age, but it felt unnatural on his face, stiff from disuse.

Wes raised an eyebrow at him, but chose not to comment. Maka had been distracted by the handle of one of her bags breaking, and Soul went to help her carry her load up to her room.

"Come join me in the kitchen when you're done, and we'll make plans for tomorrow." Wes called after them, going to change into jeans and a sweatshirt. The look in Soul's eyes had been a bit intimidating, but Wes took that as a good sign. He had something planned for the two of them tomorrow, a flag event, as it were. All his little brother had to do was put on the moves, and everything should turn out just fine. He rubbed his hands in anticipation, already picturing the looks on their faces when they told him that they had decided to be a couple. Maybe he should start his own matchmaking business...

Soul put his records on top of his dresser and then joined Maka in the hall, wondering what his brother had planned for tomorrow. He suspected it was skiing, and he had mixed feelings. It had been a while since he had been on a snowboard, and although he was excited, he didn't want to faceplant in front of Maka. He could see it now; him eating snow while Wes whizzed by on his skis, sipping tea from a china cup without spilling a drop. Even though he knew Maka wasn't the type to swoon over athletic prowess, and he wasn't the kind of guy who felt like he had to show off for attention, he still didn't want to look stupid in front of her. No matter that she had seen him at his most incompetent moments over the years; she had never seen him incompetent with Wes there to contrast with his utter...Wesness.

Reaching the kitchen, the found the counters covered with the makings for sandwiches, Wes already at the table eating.

"I left everything out. Go ahead and make what you want, then you can put it away when you're done." he said in the pause between bites.

Soul instantly grabbed two slices of bread and began to construct a giant roast beef sandwich, much to Maka's disgust.

"Soul, how can you eat all that after the lunch we had?" she contented herself by slicing some cheese for some crackers, adding a small bunch of grapes and a few pieces of pear to her plate.

He shrugged, torn between pepper jack and swiss. He added both. "What can I say, I've got a great metabolism."

She shook her head as he loaded a pile of chips next to his sandwich. "Your middle-aged spread is going to be horrible, and I am going to to laugh. Hard." she sat at the table, crunching down on a pear slice, the fruit cold and crisp between her teeth.

Soul snorted as he joined her, carefully holding his food so it didn't slide out the back. "As if you would let me get fat. No way in hell you'd keep a sloppy weapon."

Maka popped a grape into her mouth. "He says, barely able to be heard over the sound of his hardening arteries."

Soul tossed back a handful of chips, munching exaggeratedly.

Wes watched them closely. Oh yes, these two were perfect for each other. "So, I was thinking, if you guys are interested, we could go skiing tomorrow? They have some nice courses at Falling Pines Lodge."

Perking with interest, Maka replied, "I was hoping we could get at least one day in. They do rent out equipment, right?"

"Mhmm. They rent skis, snowboards, boots, and ski clothes. They also have a store with a good selection, if there's something you'd rather buy. If we leave here at seven, we should be able to get in a few practice runs before the crowds hit. Unless that's to early?" he added at Soul's groan.

Ignoring her partner, Maka agreed. "I'd like that, since it's been a while. One or two runs down an easy slope should be enough. How about you, Soul? Are you still boarding instead of skiing?"

Soul licked the last of the salt from the chips from his fingers. "Yeah, I always liked the board better. I'll leave the skiing to Wes. If we really are gettin' up that early, I think I'll go to bed now, after I give Black*Star and Kid a call. You should probably get in touch with your dad, Maka. The longer you wait, the more annoying he's gonna get."

Maka sighed, throwing her paper plate in the trashcan and putting the leftovers in ziploc bags. "I know. I also need to call Blair and she how she's doing, too. Do you want the shower tonight, or in the morning?"

Getting rid of his own trash and washing the knives they had used, he considered her question. "Tonight. That way I can sleep in a few extra minutes in the morning."

"That's what I thought. Goodnight, Wes. I'm going to go ahead and get that call to Papa over with."

"Goodnight, Maka. I'll make a large breakfast for everyone tomorrow before we leave. Remember to dress warm; the weatherman said it's supposed to be clear but cold tomorrow, with high winds."

Maka nodded and went upstairs, Soul right behind her. "Night, Wes. You gonna drive tomorrow? Or I can follow you up there."

"We might as well all go in the truck, since there's just the three of us. Get some sleep." Wes waved, fixing himself a glass of tea.

Soul grabbed his sleep clothes from his room and went into the bathroom, turning the hot water up on high. Once it reached the right temperature, he got in, the harsh pinpricks of the spray beating into his skin. If he could get through tomorrow, things should be alright. He would see that Wes was just like any other older brother, and he had probably just blown his accomplishments out of proportion in his own mind. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. He repeated this several times as he washed, and then a few more as he stretched out to sleep, wanting more than anything for that to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

At the sound of his alarm the next morning, he shot his hand out from under the covers, slamming the off button with an accuracy born of long practice. He crawled out of his warm bed, uneager to start the day. It wasn't even light out; he couldn't see anything through the frost covered glass of his window. Pulling on his black ski suit, he dug around for his matching wide black headband that would hold his hair in place and cover his ears. Adjusting it so it set the way he liked, he started for the kitchen, meeting Maka in the hall. She was in her ski suit as well, a light pink one with thin white stripes on the sides. She smiled sleepily, her white boots held loosely in one hand.

They found Wes in the kitchen, standing over some pans on the stove. He was alternating between flipping the banana and macadamia nut pancakes and turning the bacon, a stack of each already cooling on the counter. He was still in his pajamas, a pair of striped flannel pants and a T-shirt.

"Have a seat, it's almost done." he instructed, scooping the last pancake onto a plate. Maka and Soul grabbed the glasses of orange juice that had been set out, and sat down, each smiling as Wes slid a plate in front of him. Then Soul frowned.

"Hey Wes? What shirt is that from? What does 'Soma' mean?"

Wes froze, a nervous smile on his face.

"I...It's...an art museum! Yes, an art museum. Why, what did you think it meant?" he saved himself, shooting an accusing glare down at Freya as he turned to get his own plate. 'Why did you let me out like this?' he mouthed, but she only cocked her head in confusion. Oh well. They had bought it.

He ate quickly, excusing himself to go change. Emerging a short time later, he was wearing a black ski suit similar to Soul's, but with white stripes down the sides like Maka's. Letting the dogs out for a final run, he checked to make sure the others were ready, sliding his cellphone and wallet into his pocket as they left. The cab of the truck wasn't very large, so Maka wedged herself into the tiny backseat, gloved hands straightening the white earmuffs with the skull design on her head. Soul wasn't thrilled with the arrangement, but it was better than Maka sitting between the two of them, where she would practically be in Wes' lap. He wished he could sit in the back with her, but that would probably seem strange, and might hurt his brother's feelings, which, as irritated with him as he was, was something he didn't want to do.

They drove higher into the mountains, the sun shining through the branches of the trees as it rose. The snow became deeper, with even more animal tracks running through it. Maka felt her excitement grow as the lodge came into sight. Hopefully, today Soul and Wes would have some bonding moments, and the weird strain she could feel stretched between them would ease. She knew that once the two of them relaxed and talked a bit, they would work everything out, and the rest of the trip could go smoothly. Bouncing a little in her seat, she grinned. Today was going to be perfect for all of them!

Today sucked. Sucked like a hooker working overtime. It turned out that he hadn't built Wes up in his mind; he really was that perfect. Oh, things had started out pleasantly enough, he'd give it that. And to be absolutely fair, he was certain Wes wasn't even trying. But little things started to add up, snowballing into their present situation. Snowballing. An appropriately bad pun.

When they had arrived, they had gone to the rental area to pick out their boards, Maka's being a neon green and yellow and Soul's black and silver. Wes had stuck with skis, and while Maka had chosen a pair of matching pink goggles, he and Wes had opted for tinted glasses. The lady at the counter had flirted with Wes, but had received nothing more than politeness in return. Grabbing their gear, they had gone outside to look at the map, deciding which run to do first. Since Soul and Maka were out of practice, they decided on the second to easiest course, trading a look of mortification at being surrounded by a bunch of ten to twelve year olds. Wes had joined them, even though they had told him to go on ahead to a harder one and that they would catch up.

He had insisted, and together they had set off down the gentle slopes, Wes whisking along easily, while the other two relearned how to balance themselves. They picked it up fairly quickly, though there had been a few close calls when they had nearly swerved into each other. After two runs, they moved on, going faster as they became more comfortable. Soul tried out moves remembered from his childhood, grinning triumphantly when he pulled them off. His confidence took a blow when he saw that Maka spent most of her time watching Wes, cheeks pink from more than just the wind and cold. He couldn't blame her. Wes had a flawless form, gliding along like he had been born with skis on. Soul supposed he had been foolish to think a board monkey like him could compete with the classic grace that his brother exhibited.

Unknown to him, he couldn't have been farther from the truth. Maka had never really seen her weapon do anything more sporty than basketball, not counting battles and training. Watching how his body bent and flexed to execute tricks, she found it hard to tear her eyes away. What was the deal? She was already in love with him, For pity's sake! Why was she acting like a giggly twelve year old? She had accepted long ago that Soul had a hot body, what more was there? Her body started to weigh in with its opinion, but she told it to shut it down. Now was not the time to be entertaining those kinds of thoughts. Doing her best to hide her besotted expression, she was careful to always be looking away whenever she saw him look in her direction.

They had gradually moved up to the most difficult courses, breaking only to get some large bowls of hearty stew in the small adjoining restaurant. Soul had been a step too slow, and Wes had taken the seat next to Maka, leaving him to sit across and watch as their hands kept knocking into each other, since Maka was right handed and Wes was left. And he had had to keep his teeth grit together when Wes offered Maka a sip of his pineapple mango tea, a ridiculous drink choice for the middle of winter! He nearly bit his tongue when she accepted, even if she did use a separate straw. The fact remained he had just had to sit there while his partner had swapped spit with his brother, however indirectly. He had withdrawn into his own thoughts, not noticing their attempts to make him join the conversation. Maka gave Wes a worried look, but he merely shook his head. He had an idea why Soul was reacting like this. He decided to ski for a couple of more hours before putting his plan into action. After lunch, he stepped outside and made his arrangements, rejoining the two as they came out the door.

At two o' clock, he set things in motion.

"Do the two of you want to go down one last time before we go home? I think I saw a friend go in to sit by the fire, and I'd like to talk to him for a minute. It's pretty dead right now, so you should have the slope all to yourselves." Wes asked, tugging his gray ski cap tighter over his ears.

"Can we Soul? We may not get another chance to come up here, depending on the weather." Maka wheedled, hoping to convince him. It would be no fun to go alone.

Soul was all for it. Anything that put a bit of distance between Wes and Maka could only be a good thing, right? "Sure, one more. Last one down has to fix the winner their hot chocolate!"

Laughing, they raced to the lift, missing the mischievous glint in Wes' eyes, conveniently hidden behind his glasses. "Sorry, you two, but if this works you'll thank me later." he hummed merrily as he went in to wait by the fire, hoping this turned out as well as it had in the fic he had read.

Maka loaded herself into the lift next to Soul, pleased that they hadn't had to wait in line. The lift operator had smiled weakly when she commented on the lack of people, saying they had seemed to hit a lull. The seat gave a lurch as they began to move, inching along higher and higher, till they could see the mountainside stretched out below. And then suddenly, they were no longer moving.

Soul turned his head, looking behind them out of the corner of his eye. "Guess someone else is gettin' on. Was kinda weird, nobody up here like this."

"Yeah, but it was nice not to have to worry about anyone crashing into you. That one guy earlier should have stayed on an easier course." Maka waited for them to begin moving, but nothing happened.

"Soul, I don't think it was someone getting on. I think the lift is stuck." Her voice was a bit worried. It was fine while they were boarding, but it was much colder just hanging here in mid-air.

"Looks like it. But it probably won't take long." He was unsure, but decided not to voice his misgivings. It wasn't like he had ever been in this situation before.

Minutes passed, and they began to shiver, the warmth from their previous exercise draining from their bodies. Unconsciously, they huddled closer, seeking body heat. After twenty minutes, they knew that there was a problem.

"Maka, did you bring your phone?" Soul asked, hopeful that they had a means to call for help.

"No, I was worried it would get lost or broken. I guess that means you don't have yours either, huh?"

He sighed. Somehow he knew it wasn't going to be that easy. "No, I thought the same thing. On the bright side, when we don't show up, Wes will figure out somethin's wrong."

"Maybe, but wasn't he going in to talk to a friend? He could lose track of time before they close for the night." She scooted closer, sending them swinging.

Soul braced himself against the movement, measuring the distance to the ground below. "Well, it's too damn far to jump, but maybe you could toss me down in my weapon form?"

"No way." She stated flatly, and then brightened. "Wait, we could fly down! Go ahead and transform!"

He did as she asked, phasing from flesh and bone to metal in a matter of seconds. Maka gripped him securely, and then hesitated. There was no way to maneuver herself onto him properly. She shifted him into different angles, almost slipping off the seat, feeling him muffle his panic through his wavelength.

"Maka, let's stop. This isn't gonna work." He transformed back, pulling her closer to him as he regained his earlier position. That had been several seconds he didn't want to relive any time soon.

"Sorry, looks like we're stuck here. Hey, are you alright?" His eyes widened as he noticed how pale she was getting. The wind had picked up, which made it even colder.

"M-my face is getting c-cold. What about you?" Her teeth clacked together miserably.

Soul hadn't reached that point yet, but he could feel it rapidly approaching. "Take off your goggles and turn this way." he instructed, removing his glasses and zipping them into his jacket pocket. Once she had done so, he drew her to him, putting her cheek next to his as he wrapped his arms around her. Feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, she did the same, rubbing her nose into his neck and sighing at the relief it brought.

Glad that his actions had been met with approval instead of a book to the head, Soul set about making the best of their situation. He was alone, he had Maka in his arms, and she was practically purring like a contented cat as he slid a hand under her hair to rub the back of her neck, using friction for heat. She returned the favor, and he hummed happily, her hair tickling his nose. This more than made up for the attention she had been paying Wes all day, and even though he wished for her sake that they would start moving, for himself he was more than happy to endure the cold if it meant he could hold her a little longer. The space between them grew warmer with their combined breath, creating an almost pleasant bubble.

While Soul was reveling in the closeness, Maka was worrying. Had she been too enthusiastic? He hadn't said anything, but that didn't always mean he didn't notice what she was thinking. Could he tell that she was more than willing to do this without the cold as an excuse? She hoped not. Unless...he didn't seem to be having a problem with the close physical contact. In fact, he had initiated it! Was it possible he felt a spark of attraction, even a small one? Or was he just doing what he thought was his duty as a weapon. No, it felt like more than that. Maybe...maybe if she gathered up all of her courage at once, she could get him to tell her one way or another what he felt. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for a long overdue confession.

"Soul? There's been something I've been meaning to ask you. Could you just...hear me out till the end? I'll accept whatever your answer is, I just need to know for my own peace of mind."

She received no response. Nervously, she tried again.

"Soul, please don't do this. It's important. Soul? Soul!"

A soft snore was her only answer, and she jerked back, appalled. How could he sleep at a time like this? The jerk!

"OW! Jeez, what the hell was that for?" Soul sat up, rubbing his head, glaring at her accusingly.

Her glare was no less intense as she crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest. "You fell asleep. It's too dangerous to do that in this cold." she bit out in irritation.

"Why do I get the feelin' that there's more to it than that?"

She slumped, the fight going out of her. "Forget it. It was stupid, anyway." she muttered, leaving Soul with the uneasy feeling that he had missed something really important. But it wasn't his fault! She had just been so soft and warm, he couldn't help it! Not that he could tell her that.

Before he could make some kind of excuse, there was a creaking noise, and they began to move.

"I don't know about you, but I've lost the energy to board down. I think I'll just ride back down."

Soul was surprised. Maka usually didn't wear out that fast, but he put it down to the cold. "Are you sure? What if we get stuck again?'

She waved a gloved hand carelessly. "Like you said before, Wes will notice if we don't show up. Besides, I think we'll make it back down alright."

He shrugged, sensing that she wouldn't change her mind. They stayed on, lost in their own thoughts for the trip back down, where they saw that Wes was waiting for them.

"Are you two alright? It seems there was some trouble with the lift. Do either of you need to visit the nurse's station, or do you want to go on home?" He asked solicitously, earning a grateful smile from Maka.

'We're okay. Nothing some hot chocolate and warm clothes won't fix, right Soul?'

"Yeeeaah." He agreed slowly. There was something about his brother he couldn't quite place. Almost an air of...expectantcy?

"You wouldn't happen to have any idea about how we got stuck like that, would you?" he hissed suspiciously, holding Wes back by the arm so Maka wouldn't hear them as she walked ahead.

Wes rolled his eyes, giving him the old look of put upon older brother. "Yes, Soul. I bribed the lift operator to strand not only you up there, but a perfectly lovely girl who has been nothing but kind to me. That may be the kind of trick to play on a brother, but a woman you barely know? Really?" he had learned early that the best way to lie was to tell the absolute truth in a thickly sarcastic tone.

Soul looked embarrassed as they caught up to Maka, glad she hadn't heard him. He was thankful when Wes seemed to let it go.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Maka. I hope Soul was pleasant, at least?"

Maka gave a strange sounding laugh. "Well, he was at first. While he was awake."

They looked to Wes, who had stumbled. "You mean...you were up there all that time, and he just...fell asleep?" Wes asked disbelievingly, his two hundred dollars floating away. After all the trouble he had gone through to bribe that man, and to keep other people away! Was his brother really that dense? That had been a perfect chance, and he had wasted it. Luckily for his romantically impaired little brother, he had other plans, just in case this hadn't worked out. Now all he had to do was figure out when would be the best time to use them. These things must be handled delicately...or maybe, in Soul's case, with the brunt force of a flying brick.

The sun had set by the time they got home, the three of them going quickly to their respective rooms to put on some warm clothes. Soul tossed his ski suit in the corner, pulling on a pair of black track pants and the sweatshirt he had worn on the plane. When he was done, he knocked at Maka's room to see if she was ready. When she opened the door, she was wearing a set of oversized mint green sweats, and a pair of thick fluffy blue and green socks.

"Wanna go down and get a drink? I think Wes is lighting a fire." He offered, the last vestiges of the cold still clinging to him.

"If you'll make it . I want to get in front of that fire as soon as possible."

"Fine. I saw some mint chocolate flavor that looked pretty good."

A dog barked downstairs, and they followed the noise to find Freya at the front door, waiting to be let in and rid of her boots and jacket. Soul left Maka to deal with her while he got the drinks ready, Spartacus trailing after him. He mixed everything together as fast as he could, ready to relax by the fire, something that was rare since he had moved to Nevada.

The fire was going at a good pace when he made it to the den, Maka curled up on one side of the couch with a blanket. Wes was in the recliner in jeans and a gray Julliard sweatshirt, causing Soul to wince. He wondered briefly if he would have had even a slim chance of being admitted had he stayed with his family, but those thoughts were banished as he handed Maka her mug and he looked into her eyes, which sparked gratefully as she took a drink. No, he had made the right choice. He loved being a weapon, and he wouldn't trade the experience or friendships he had made for a career in music.

He sat next to Maka, the three of them enjoying the warmth and the silence for a moment. Spartacus tried get on the couch between them, but he must have strained himself, for the air was filled with a horrible odor.

"Dear god! It's like something crawled up from the pits of hell and died!" Maka gasped, eyes watering. Seeing this, the dog hung his head and walked away, trying to crawl under Wes' chair in shame.

"Come on, Maka, he can't help it! He's just like his dad, and he's sensitive about it too. He won't come out until you make up with him." Soul watched her try to breathe through her mouth, before discovering that that only made her able to taste it. She bit her lip, feeling bad about hurting the poor dog's feelings.

"I'm sorry, Spartacus. Come here boy! Come here!" She patted the couch, and the large animal nearly tripped over his own feet to get to her, climbing onto her lap, nearly knocking the air out of her.

"Oof! Hey, no! You're too big for me, you won't fit!" she cried, pushing at him futilely.

Soul and Wes both nearly spat out their drinks, trading a look at her words.

Wes stood up and came to her rescue, calling, "Come on boy. Let's go get a bone."

At the word 'bone', Spartacus lunged over the back of the chair, following his master into the other room, leaving Maka to wheeze on the couch.

Laughing, Soul set his mug next to hers on the coffee table. "Sorry, guess I should've warned you after all."

Maka glared, picking up Freya as she waddled by. "Jerk. Is he always that bad?"

"Nope. It's usually a lot worse. Next time, pretend you don't notice." he advised, stretching an arm out over the back of the couch as Freya dragged herself onto his lap, rolling onto her back to show her stomach.

"What are you on my lap for? Maka's the one you should be suckin' up to." he joked, but scratched her head anyway.

"Aw, how can you resist her? She's so cute!" Maka bent over to rub her face on the warm puppy belly, Soul leaning back out of her way. Freya accepted the caress for a moment, then unexpectedly oozed out from under Maka, leaving her rubbing her face in Soul's crotch.

With a small shriek, she jumped back, the wideness of her eyes matched only by his. They stared at each other in shock, but it was too much for her, and she threw the blanket over herself, wishing it were a black hole. Soul was relieved that she did so, as he fought down the natural reaction to having the girl he was in love with shove her face in his crotch with an enthusiasm that would have been gratifying in a different circumstance.

Wes returned to a red-faced and shell-shocked Soul next to a blanket covered lump on the couch that seemed to be emitting some kind of whimpering.

"I was only gone for five minutes, but I seem to have missed out on something highly interesting. Care to share?"

A dual answer of "No!" Erupted from the pair, Maka poking her head out, a horrified expression on her face. The situation would have been bad enough had he been wearing jeans, but with the pants he had on, she had been able to feel everything. And while that would add a nice extra dimension to her dreams, it was still as embarrassing as hell and she had no desire for anyone other than Soul to know about this.

Shaking his head at their strange antics, Wes sat back down and changed the subject. "While I was in town yesterday, I signed us all up for the snow sculpture contest. It's a two day event, and there's a five hundred dollar reward for the winner. Are you two up for it?"

This grabbed Maka's interest, putting her unplanned introduction to Soul Jr. out of her mind.

"That sounds like fun! When does it start?"

"It's two days from now, which gives you time to decide what you're going to build. You might want to practice outside, if you get the chance. Tomorrow would be good, since I just found out that one of my favorite shows is having an all day marathon, and I won't be leaving the couch until it's over."

Soul was less than enthusiastic about the idea of subjecting himself to the cold just to pile up a bunch of snow, but he could tell by Maka's eager expression that getting out of it would be more trouble than agreeing.

"I guess I don't mind, as long as you let me sleep in tomorrow."

"Your enthusiasm overwhelms me. Fine, since it'll be warmer when the sun's overhead, anyway." Maka agreed sarcastically, still sore on the subject of Soul and sleep.

Plans made, they stared into the crackling fire, the flickering shades of red, orange, and yellow lulling them into a state of relaxed slothfullness. The only sounds were the popping and hissing of the logs, soon joined by the snores of the two dogs. After dozing off two or three times, Wes excused himself for the night, leaving Soul and Maka to work up the energy to make it upstairs. Maka was the first to stand up, tugging on Soul's limp arm until he joined her, leaning his weight on her and half asleep. Pushing him to the stairs, she sighed.

"You know, if you keep falling asleep like this, you're going to end up missing something important."

Gripping the handrail to drag himself up, he answered lazily, "You always tell me what I miss, even if I don't wanna know, so I'm good."

Maka glared holes into his eye-level butt. "SOmetimes the things I have to say are important, and I don't want to repeat myself!" she snapped back.

At her tone of voice, he turned around at the top of the stairs. "What's wrong? Have I done somethin' to make you mad?"

She stepped around him on the way to her room, but was unable to stay mad at his sleepy look of confused concern. "No, it's fine...it wasn't a big deal, anyway."

He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder before she could go into her room. "That's the second time you've said that. Are you sure there's not somethin' you need to tell me?"

He was a bit worried. Maka usually spoke whatever was on her mind.

Patting his hand, she pulled away. "No. At least, not right now. I'll figure something out. Goodnight, Soul. I'm going to try to call Blair again, since she didn't answer last night. I hope she's taking care of the apartment like she said she would."

Her face showed no trace that she was more than irritated, so he let it go for now. "'NIght, Maka. Remember, you're letting me sleep in tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah. I promise not to wake you till at least noon, satisfied?"

"Weeell, you could bring me breakfast in- hey! Owowow! Okay, just joking!" he yelped, jerking away from where she had pinched his arm. She laughed as she shut the door in his scowling face, feeling better. She supposed she would just have to try again.

Sunlight slid into the cracks of his eyelids, prying them open like a crowbar. He rolled over to see the numbers flashing on his alarm clock; 12:42. Shooting out of bed, he checked his phone to make sure it was the right time. It was. Shit! He hadn't really been serious about sleeping in this late! He threw on the clothes he had been wearing last night and dashed out, taking the stairs two at a time. Wes and Maka were in the living room, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, completely engrossed in whatever was playing on the tv. Soul stood behind them for a while, catching on to the plot relatively quickly. When a commercial break came, the other two came out of their daze enough to notice him.

"Hey, Soul. You should have just come in and sat down, instead of standing there." Wes greeted him.

"Didn't want to interrupt you, since you both looked like you were into it. Besides, I thought Maka was gonna wake me up so we could go out."

Maka turned her head to look at him, careful not to disturb Freya, who had fallen asleep on her lap.

"I meant to, but then I got hooked on this show, and Wes was explaining shipping to me. Liz and Patty had mentioned it before, but I'd never really gotten the chance to get into it. I'm sorry I forgot to wake you, but at least this way you should be able to stay awake the rest of the day."

In answer, Soul's stomach let out a long, low grumble. "Stayin' awake won't be a problem, but right now, I need food. You guy's eaten yet?" he asked on his way to the kitchen, the others trailing along behind him.

'No, we were waiting for you. Unless you feel like cooking, we're having sandwiches again so we can eat in the living room." Wes said, pulling things from the fridge while Maka poured them all glasses of Coke.

"Does this mean we're not goin' outside?" Soul asked hopefully, much preferring to stay inside in front of the tv.

Maka saw right through him. "Yes, since I want to see how this turns out, but tomorrow we are definitely going to practice."

Soul nodded happily as he spread spicy mustard on a slice of bread. If he was lucky, something would come up tomorrow, too. Food in hand, they trekked back into the living room, Soul being sure to position himself in the center of the couch. He may have come late to the party, but he planned on being firmly in the middle of things from now on.

"So what was it the two of you were supposed to be shippin'? And before you ask, yes, I know what it means." Soul asked around a mouthful of sandwhich as the show came back on.

Maka pointed at the screen. "Wes is trying to convince me that that that girl there," she moved her finger, "and that guy there should be a couple. I still haven't made up my mind."

He grunted. This wasn't exactly his area of interest, but he would play along. At least this show had a compelling plot with interesting characters. He settled in to watch, taking special note of the two that Maka had pointed out, almost immediately sympathizing with the guy. Three episodes later, he weighed in with his opinion.

"The guy's obviously crazy about her, but she doesn't care much."

Whipping her head around, Maka flicked her hair out of her eyes to stare at him incredulously. "What? How can you say that! Sure, he's a good friend, but half the time he doesn't act like he even knows she's a girl! And as for her not caring, that's just stupid. She may not be good at showing it, but she cares!" Maka defended stubbornly, secretly identifying with the character.

"He does too notice! But she's never exactly been open to that kind of thing, so he keeps it to himself. And look at the way he bends over backwards for her, all without her knowing. Do you have any idea how hard that has to be on him, when he knows it probably doesn't even matter to her? Or if she even sees it?"

"She sees it, but she doesn't know how he means it, and she's afraid to get her hopes up. She hasn't had the best examples, so she's worried she'll screw it up. If he would just say something, she would be able to tell him!"

"Well why doesn't she say anything? It doesn't always have to be the guy that goes first, you know!"

"She tried, but he wouldn't listen!"

Their words had gotten more heated as they argued, noses almost touching, fingers boring into the chests of the other.

"What, when did that ever happ-"

"Shluuuuuurrrrp."

They froze in mid rant, turning to face the doorway where Wes stood, fresh bowl of popcorn in one hand, drink in the other as he tried to keep up with their...discussion.

"Don't mind me. You both have very valid points. Feel free to continue. It seems like you've grasped the characters very well." he sat down in the armchair, angling it so he could watch them and the tv.

Blushing, Maka and Soul eased apart, feeling foolish for getting all worked up like that. They went back to watching the show in silence, each rooting for their respective character. This went on long into the night, both becoming thoroughly engrossed and emotionally invested. Finally, Maka was unable to keep her eyes open, and headed up to bed, resolving to finish this series on Netflix once they got home.

Soul hung back to ask Wes a burning question.

"So tell me. Do they ever get together?" he leaned on the back of the couch as Wes turned out the lights and made sure the door was locked.

'No. Since he never makes a move, she believes he's uninterested, so she ends up going out with his brother." Wes said bluntly. "It would be a pity if something like that happened in real life, wouldn't it, Soul?"

Soul stalked up to stand toe to toe with his brother. " I don't know what your fucking deal is, but you'd better not be planning to play around with Maka." he growled, voice low and dangerous.

Wes met his look with a cool one of his own. "I've never been the type to play with a girl's heart, Soul, and it kind of pisses me off that you think I would do that with Maka."

Soul stepped back, not sure if he felt better or worse. "So you're really interested in her?" he asked tightly, fists clenched.

Seeing his distress, Wes relented a little. "She's a very nice girl, Soul. There's something about her that you don't find very often. If you don't hurry, you may just end up having to fight me for her." he hoped this would spur Soul on. Wes was detached enough from the situation to see that there was a growing longing and frustration in Maka, and he was worried for his brother. Just because she was in love didn't mean she was going to wait forever on something she didn't expect to happen. He wanted to tell Soul this, but the boy had always been stubborn about listening to advise. So he kept his thoughts to himself. Soul's mouth worked wordlessly, before he turned and stomped up the stairs. Wes sighed, heading to his own room. He hoped he could work things out with his brother once things settled down. One way or another, he would make sure they understood each other before Soul got on the plane for home. He hadn't been able to be there much for him, and he felt like maybe, if he got things to work out for the weapon and meister, that that may go a little ways in making up for it. As he got ready for bed, he glanced at the bookshelf, a smile creeping onto his face. Tomorrow, he would give them both a little surprise.

Two figures faced each other in the snow, glaring and unwilling to back down. Maka had succeeded in waking Soul at a decent hour, and after lunch they had gone out back behind the back of the cabin, where the snow was relatively untrampledU. Soul had showed her how to get the snow to mold into the shape that she wanted, and they had spent a while making small things, like preschoolers with a lump of clay.

It had been pleasant and peaceful, until it came time to decide what they would be making for the competition. Every idea imaginable was tossed out, from kishin to whales, to kishin whales. Back and forth, suggestions were made and shot down.

"Spartacus?" Soul was getting desperate.

"No. How about Freya?" Maka countered hopefully.

"Not really big enough. A motorcycle?"

Maka made a face. "Oooh, I know! How about an angel?"

"You really have an unhealthy obsession with those things, you know that, right?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he turned around, walking over to kick a clump of snow in frustration.

THWAP!

A cold, wet sensation slapped into the back of his head, dripping down under the collar of his coat and into his shirt. He turned a disbelieving gaze on her, where she stood with her hands over her mouth, wide green eyes twinkling with mirth.

He wiped his neck, bearing his teeth at her. "Oh, you did not just go there. Tell me you didn't."

"Um, I kinda, sorta, did?" she laughed nervously, as he began to advance on her.

With a squeak, she turned and ran, pausing only long enough to scoop up another and full of snow, packing it tightly as she dodged behind a tree. She took aim and let it fly, but this time he was ready, and ducked out of the way. Choosing his own tree, he began to make a pile of frozen projectiles, keeping an eye out for any incoming attacks. None came, as Maka took this chance to make her own, ready to launch her first one the moment he poked his head around the trunk.

"Fire when you see the red of his eyes." she muttered under her breath, almost missing the ball that whizzed past her head. A furious battle ensued, each crowing in victory whenever their target was hit. When Soul realized he was running out of snow, he changed tactics, rushing her tree, zigzagging through the barrage that came flying at him. Emerging relatively unscathed, he tackled her to the ground, sending both of them rolling, the snow soaking through their clothes, the soggy material sticking to the skin. They paid it no mind as they scrabbled for dominance, each one bent on coming out on top. Soul almost won, but Maka played dirty by shoving a handful of ice down his shirt, causing him to rear back, giving her the opportunity to pin him, both of them breathless with laughter.

Soul was the first to calm down, enjoying himself as he watched the sunlight catch on her damp skin, the carefree way she laughed. Under his scrutiny, she became quiet, then pushed aside the flirtatiousness that she felt when she realized he was cold and wet. Standing, she held out a hand to help him up, bracing herself against his weight as she pulled.

"Come on, Soul. Let's go get changed. I don't want to spend the rest of our vacation with a cold."

"Probably should, since the sun will be going down soon. Maybe by now, Wes is done practicin'."

He hoped so, since the subject of music had been brought up, Wes and Maka had both asked him to play the piano. He had fobbed them off my playing a one note version of jingle bells, much to their disappointment. When Wes had mentioned that he needed to practice for the Christmas eve concert he was in, Soul was more than happy to leave the house. He loved hearing his brother play, except for the fact that it reminded him of his own musical failures. It was going to be hard enough sitting in the audience, where he would have no way to escape. To make matters worse, he would be forced to wear a suit.

Entering the cabin, there was only the sound of Wes rustling around in his room. They called out a hello, trooping up the stairs to change. Soul let Maka have the first shower, which gave him time to laze under the hot stream without her yelling for him to get out. When he finally emerged, still slightly damp in a pair of jeans and a Nordic style shirt with skulls instead of reindeer, he followed the sounds of Maka's cackling to the living room.

The first thing that hit him was how close they were sitting on the couch. That in itself was enough to get his panties in a bunch, but even that was blown out of the water when he realized why. Spread open between their laps was something Soul recognized with a stomach-lurching dread; they were going through the family photo album! Suddenly, every embarrassing snapshot went through a slideshow presentation in his mind, and he raced forward, doing a dive and roll between them to yank the album from their grasp.

"Soul! What are you doing, I was looking at that!" Maka yelled, not happy that her first real look into Soul's childhood had been stolen from her. She lunged for it, but he pulled it back over his head, forcing her to stretch her arms out and try to jump for it.

"You were, and now you're not. The only way I could make the situation better was if I had a Men In Black flashy thingy."

She grinned. Too late, I've seen the good stuff. Really, I thought the baby on a bearskin rug was just a joke, but you were so cute! Your little butt cheeks all puffed up, like Pillsbury rolls!"

Soul felt his face flame at her words. He always knew letting those pictures survive was a mistake. His brother laughing manically over on the couch was not helping matters.

"Sooooouuull!" she whined, still reaching.

"Maaaakaaa! No. You've seen enough. My cool reputation is in tatters."

She puffed her cheeks out in a pout, glaring from under her bangs. "Then it shouldn't matter if I see the rest."

"Yes, Soul. Let her see them. Even if you don't, I still have plenty more." he patted a stack of albums next to him, making Soul swallow nervously. Just how many pictures had he brought from the main house?!

"And I think I might have some home videos as well..."

Soul plopped onto the couch, glaring in defeat. "Fine, go ahead and look. But if you mention any of this to the others, I will find a way to make your life miserable."

Maka patted him on the head like the obedient dog that he was, taking the seat next to him. Soul let her open the album, but kept it on his lap, shooting a smug look at Wes over her head, pleased that he had gotten her to move closer to him. He felt her begin to shake, and looked down into his own scowling face, staring up at him from that horrific mouse costume his aunt Martha had forced him to wear when he was ten.

"Shit."

She gave up trying to contain her giggles, letting them bubble forth. "Oh come on! These are really cute! And Wes has been telling me all the stories behind them."

"I'm sure he has." he snarled at his angelic looking brother. Just what he needed, all of his past stupid moves dredged up and put on display, like some sort of epic failure parade.

"Don't be embarrassed. A lot of kids wet the bed. It's nothing to be ashamed of." she said calmly, turning the page.

His face contorted, unsure of which emotion was appropriate for the situation. "What the fuck! Did he mention I was just two at the time?"

Maka blinked at him. "No, it sounded like you were older...oh well. Even more normal, then."

"Sorry about that, Soul. I guess I was unclear."

Soul fumed wordlessly. Oh, Wes was the very devil!

"But you were older when you had the pet snail, right? The funeral you gave it was so sweet, and you looked absolutely adorable dressed up in your little suit to give the eulogy!" she enthused, patting his leg.

"You told her about Stanley, you bastard!" Soul gasped, appalled at how low his own flesh and blood could sink. He had loved that little gastropod, and his death had hit him hard.

Wes shrugged. "Maka was curious about what you were like as a child, so I told her. Really, have you told her nothing about yourself?"

That made him flinch. He knew it had always bothered Maka that he closed himself off so much, but he could never find the words to explain that he didn't want to think of his past, much less talk about it.

Maka had gotten quieter as she got closer to the end, but she looked at Soul to say dryly, "Look, I don't know what you're so embarrassed about. You've met Papa, for god's sake. It's only fair that I get this much."

A smirk slowly formed on Soul's face. "Oh yeeeeah. What was that one thing again? Pumpkin pan-"

"No."

"Pumpkin-"

"Don't go there."

"P-"

"Shut it down."

Wes stood to move in the direction of the kitchen, pausing to stand behind them. "You two are so cute with your little inside jokes."

They both looked up at him, confused by the oddly creepy expression he wore, which he quickly wiped off.

"Ah...you enjoy yourselves. I'll just go see what we have to eat." he hurried to the kitchen, dogs at his heels in hope that something delicious would fall to the floor.

"Oh, wow, Soul! Just...wow!" Maka snorted suddenly.

Soul looked for the picture that had gotten that reaction, his face exploding red then bleeding white. It was taken his last Christmas here, when he was about twelve. He and Wes had had some kind of dumb bet, which he of course had lost, and the penalty had been to run a circle around the yard. Naked. The picture was taken when he had tried to get back inside, only to find that Wes had locked the door. So there he was, yelling at the door, wearing nothing but a look of rage, his bits fully exposed. The cold hadn't done much for them, which wasn't really how he had wanted things advertised to Maka.

"FUCK!" he slammed the album shut, throwing it across the room. he buried his head in his hands. This was it. He was finished.

"Soul, can I ask you something?" she asked hesitantly after a few minutes had passed.

He threw himself back, heaving a large sigh.

"Shoot."

"While we were looking at the pictures, I noticed something that bothered me." she began.

"Look, I was twelve, it was cold! Things have changed since then!"

She smacked his arm half-heartedly. "Not that! I'm serious. At first I didn't really notice. But after a while, it became pretty obvious. As the years pass in the pictures...Soul, you smile less and less. That whole last year, you only have one picture with you smiling, and it's fake. Were you really that unhappy?"

For a moment, she thought she had gone too far, and that he wasn't going to answer her. Then he sighed again, this one long and drawn out, full of melancholy.

"Yeah, I was. By that point, things had gotten to where I couldn't take it anymore. When I found out I was a weapon, it was a relief. It gave me the excuse I needed to run away and leave all my problems behind." he released a short, sour laugh. "So, now you know what a coward you have for a weapon."

His eyelids flew open when she yanked him by the hair to face her, her eyes lit with a burning anger.

"Don't you ever say shit like that again, Soul Eater Evans! I don't know how things were before, but we've been partners through a lot. And if I know one thing, it's that the last thing you are is a coward!" she hissed like a cat.

Reaching up, he untangled her fingers from his hair, keeping a loose hold as he rested it on his leg. "There's more than one kind of coward."

His toned pained her, and was mirrored in her own voice. Then you need to face this. Whatever it is, I can see it start to eat away at you since we've been here. Won't you tell me what it is so I can help you?"

How? How could he possibly tell her? It was bad enough that she knew as much as she did already. He couldn't bear to look so weak and pathetic in front of her; not now, in direct contrast to Wes. He knew that if she compared the two of them now, the little confidence he had managed to scrape together since he left home would shatter, six years down the drain. But he didn't know what to say that wouldn't upset her further. Maka was persistent, and if something didn't distract her soon, she would have it out of him.

As if in answer to his internal struggles, the lights flickered and dimmed, flaring back to life once before dying completely.

There was the sound of someone bumping around in the hall, and then Wes called out to them. "Looks like the weather's picked up and knocked out the power. I'll go out and hook up the generator."

"You need any help?" Soul asked.

"No, I've got it!" the door banged shut on his words, leaving them sitting in darkness, with only the sound of the wind howling outside. The storm had picked up surprisingly fast, but the weatherman had said it should be over sometime tomorrow, so they hadn't paid much attention to the warning of bad weather.

It wasn't long before Wes returned, stomping the snow from his shoes, the light from his flashlight bobbing wildly.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news. I thought I had gas out there for the generator, but I guess I was wrong. It's too dangerous to drive down tonight, so we're just going to have to bear with it for the night."

There was more shifting noises, and he came into the living room, carrying an armful of wood with the light balanced on top. Soul stood to help, and between them, they quickly got the fire going.

"It's not a problem for us, Wes. We've made it through worse. And we have plenty of food and a fire, so it isn't nearly as bad as it could be." Maka said to put him at ease.

"Speakin' of food, is there anything to eat?" Soul asked, the light from the fire reflecting off of his eyes.

Wes paused to think. "We could do like we used to when we were kids. Sound good, Soul?"

Soul brightened, remembering. "That works. I'll go grab the stuff. And you should probably find the extra blankets. It's gonna get frickin' cold tonight."

"Um, about that...there are a few leaks upstairs I've been meaning to fix. You wouldn't notice with the heat on, but without it, it's going to be too cold to sleep up there. I'm afraid you'll need to sleep in here tonight. The couch pulls out into a bed, so you shouldn't be too uncomfortable."

Maka and Soul exchanged a look, shrugging.

"Not like it's the first time we've had to share a bed. What about you? There's still the fireplace in the master bedroom, right?" Soul asked dubiously, wanting to make clear that he was only sharing the bed with one person, and Maka with no one at all.

"Yes, and the woodbox in there is full, plus I'll have the dogs with me."

"Guys, I'm going to run upstairs and change while there's still some heat lingering up there. I'll be right back."

By the time she had returned, they had hot dogs on some skewers, roasting them in the fire. There were plates and buns and condiments set up, along with, unless she was mistaken, the makings of s'mores.

"Is this what you were talking about earlier?" she asked as she tossed her book on the couch, joining them on the floor, sitting cross-legged between them.

Soul was happy to see that she was wearing the green sweats she had worn the other day, instead of her usual sleepwear. "Yeah, we used to do this when we were kids and the power went out. We cook hot dogs and s'mores, and put bottles of coke out in the snow to make slushies." he smiled, recalling one of his few pleasant memories of his parents.

"That sounds like fun. It was never cold enough to do anything like that when I was little. Actually, I don't think I can remember the heat ever going off."

"It didn't happen often." Wes added as he put a finished hot dog on a plate and reloaded his skewer. "It was more of a treat than a regular occurence. Soul! You've almost burnt that one to a crisp!"

Soul removed the blackened dog, putting it on a separate plate. "I know, but that's the way Maka likes them. Crunchy."

Taking the offered plate, she nodded. "I don't know why, but I do. Thanks, Soul."

She squirted lines of mustard on the dog, adding a spoonful of relish. Taking a large bite, she found that Soul had gotten it perfect.

Once the hot dogs had been made and consumed, they each took turns fixing their own s'mores, some more competently than others. Soul and Maka ended up wearing part of theirs, smeared from cheek to chin, while Wes didn't get a crumb out of place. The drinks were brought inside, and after wiping faces and hands with damp napkins, the sat back in the seats, Maka disinterestedly reading a book while the brothers talked, Wes catching Soul up on family news.

"...and Grandmother's hip is almost totally healed, so she'll be able to go on safari this spring, even though Mother is worried about her going alone."

Maka pulled her attention away from her book at this. "If she's frail, then maybe someone could go with her?" her face morphed into confusion when the other two began to laugh uproariously.

Catching her look, Soul explained, "You missed the part where Wes said how she got her hip broken. She was playing hockey. That woman is far from frail. She still runs a rugby league for inner city youth."

"Why have I never met this woman?"

"Because I'm afraid of how well the two of you would get along." he was only half teasing.

She tried to pay better attention after that, but a full stomach and the warmth of the fire lulled her into a drowse, her head falling on Soul's shoulder in the middle of a story about some uncle who was finally getting married, after years of swearing up and down that he would die a bachelor.

Wes, seeing that she wouldn't be able to stay up much longer, suggested that they get the couch set up while he got the fire in his room going. Soul got the extra blankets from the hall closet, nudging Maka off the couch when he returned. Snapping herself to a state of semi-wakefulness, she helped him unfold the bed, tucking the blankets in and tossing the pillows to the top. Poking his head out of his room, Wes called the dogs to him, saying goodnight.

Soul watched as Maka slid under the covers, wiggling around for a comfortable position, before joining her. The blankets hadn't been warmed by the fire, so it was still a bit chilly. He kept himself strictly on his side, not wanting to cross some kind of line and get kicked out. That changed when Maka rolled over behind him to yank him closer.

"Get over here! What's wrong, Soul? We've had to sleep in smaller beds than this, and I'm still kind of cold."

Gingerly, he turned over, laying one arm over her waist, careful to keep it in a neutral zone. "Just didn't want you callin' me a pervert or somethin', and try to bash my head in." he sighed as one of her hands rested against his chest, while the other curled around his neck to play with the strands of hair at the nape.

"You're not that big of a pervert." she admitted, adding darkly under her breath, "at least not with me."

He raised an eyebrow. If he didn't know her as well as he did, he would almost swear that she sounded disappointed that he hadn't tried to have his wicked way with her. But that was ridiculous.

Lazily, he rubbed circles along her lower back, her feet twining with his playfully. They both lay there silently, taking pleasure in these soft caresses, fingers mapping the other person wherever they felt was permissable. Eventually, the movements stilled, though Maka's thoughts had not. Her courage had somewhat built back up, and Soul seemed to be in a receptive mood. Although if he turned her down, it was going to be a cold night for one of them.

"Soul, you asked if something had been bothering me lately, and I said I was fine. But...that's not quite true. I mean, there's nothing really wrong, I just think that, maybe, if you were okay with it, things could be...better. I've felt like this for a long time, and I don't think i can keep ignoring it anymore. I know this could change things between us...wait, Soul? Are you listening? Oh, don't tell me!"

She had paused in the middle of her heart-felt confession at his lack of response, to find she had waited too long. He was already asleep. AGAIN. The jerk. He was even drooling a tiny bit on the pillow. She started to pull away in disgust, both at him and herself, when he let out a whimper, lines forming on his forehead as he pulled her tighter. Remembering how stressed he had seemed the last few days, she stroked his cheek gently, unable to contain a small smile as he nuzzled into her palm, muttering, "M'kaaa."

Cuddling against him, she decided she wasn't going to try to bring this up the rest of the trip. He was already dealing with something, she could tell, so right now probably wasn't the time to load him with more. But once they got home, she was sitting him down for a long talk, even if she had to keep his eyes pried open with clothespins until she got her point across.

The next morning, Maka woke up in a cocoon of warmth, a heavy arm still draped around her, and her face smashed into a broad chest, a slow, steady heartbeat pounding against her cheek. She relaxed for a few moments, before remembering that they needed to get up if they wanted to make it to the competition. She poked Soul in the ribs, earning a loud snort as his eyes fluttered open.

"Eh? Wha's goin' on?" he drawled, not completely awake enough for 7coherent discussion but more than aware of the lithe body in his arms and the puffs of breath on his neck.

"We need to get up and around if we want to make it to town. That is, if we aren't snowed in." she tried to roll away, but he wouldn't release her.

"Mmmm, jus' a few more minuuuuutes." he pleaded in a moan, sleepily rubbing his cheek on her forehead, making her squirm.

"Ouch! Stop that! Ugh, Soul, you need to shave!"

Her wiggling and squeals were waking him up, and with a grin, he began to rub his stubble all over her face like an overly affectionate cat, holding her down and laughing as she beat his chest with her small fists.

"Dammit, you're going to give me beard burn! Stop it! Stooooooop iiiiiiiiiit!" by this point she was laughing too, tears rolling down her face as she struggled to get out from under him.

"You two look like you're enjoying yourselves." Wes said with amusement from where he had come to stand behind the couch. Did you have a nice night? He was dying with curiosity. The setting had been perfect; something had to have happened, damn it!

The pair on the couch disengaged, Maka rubbing at her stinging cheeks. "We were fine. Soul was definitely comfortable; he fell asleep while I was trying to talk to him." she admitted ruefully.

"He...fell asleep. Ha. Haha. Hahahaha. Of course he did. Excuse me for a minute, won't you?" Plastic smile in place, he left the room, the sounds of muffled thumping being heard from the hall.

"Crap, did I miss somethin'?" Soul asked worriedly, noting how his meister's shoulders had slumped.

"Not really. I already know what I'm going to do about it, so it's okay." Maka was firm. She wasn't mad at him, not really. It wasn't as if he had done it on purpose, or had any idea what had been on her mind. It would keep until they got home.

"I'll start on the waffles, if you would like to go get ready. The power seems to have come back on." Wes said as he returned, a faint red mark on his forehead. He seemed put out by something, but they had no idea what could have upset him. Shrugging, they went upstairs to dress, leaving Wes to bang around in the kitchen, taking his frustration out on the innocent cookware.

What could have gone wrong? It had been a brilliant plan; turn the power off, pretend it was because of the weather, conveniently be unable to use the generator. It was all supposed tohave collimated in fireside confessions and canoodling. Soul wasn't even twenty. Was it really already time to break out the performance enhancing drugs? Oh well. Nothing that could be done about it now. He would just watch them carefully over the next to days, and observe their interactions to get ideas for another plan.


	4. Chapter 4

MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY WONDERFUL READERS! Here are the last two chapters. I hope you have as much fun reading them as I did writing them. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! They really made my day.

On the trip into town, Wes mentioned that he had been asked by a friend to enter the competition with them, so Soul and Maka would have to make up a team by themselves. While Maka was politely disappointed, Soul was doing mental cartwheels. This meant that Wes would be too busy to make any kind of advance on Maka, and he had a hard time keeping a pleased smile from slithering onto his face. They pulled into the parking lot of the city park, a large red banner proclaiming that this was the sixty-fifth year for the event. Crowds had gathered, a mix a participants and family and friends that had come to cheer them on. Every competitor was intent on staking out an area with a substantial amount of snow, so once they said a hurried goodbye to Wes, Maka and Soul claimed their own patch of land, waiting for the mayor to signal the start.

They had finally agreed on a subject, and would be making a Ninetails, with a few Vulpix dancing around it. Both of them were closet Pokèmon nerds, secretly killing time or winding down after a mission battling each other. Being evenly matched, it always made it interesting, if not as relaxing as it was intended to be.

"Soul, which should we do first, the Ninetails or the Vulpix? Or would it be better to split them up?"

He considered her options. "I think we should both focus on the Ninetails first, make sure it's solid and then get all the detailing done. That way, if we run out of time, it at least looks finished."

Maka decided to follow his advice, since he had experience with this. As the mayor droned on over the loudspeaker, people began to grow antsy, shifting back and forth in their eagerness to start. Looking around, Maka saw no sign of Wes, an observation that was met with a strange sort of satisfaction from Soul. She was having a hard time understanding the dynamic between those two. Sometimes, they seemed to get along great; then five seconds later, she would sense a dark undercurrent between them, mostly from her weapon. She knew that when it came to sibling relationships she was at a bit of a loss, but she could still tell that there was something that they needed to fix. Soon. It had been hard enough to get Soul to come this time; she didn't think she could manage it again.

Shaking her head, she followed the example of others around her as everyone began to gather snow into piles, forming a rough base for what would be the main body. Quickly picking up on the competitive spirit, she threw herself into it, scurrying about like some form of snow ant. They worked in silence, both seeming to know without needing to use words what the other needed. Though the sun was out, the wind was up, the cold air biting into any exposed skin. In spite of this, Soul felt the beads of sweat form on his neck to trickle down his collar, soaking the t-shirt he had on under his coat and sweater. It was a nasty, sticky feeling, and he knew that the first thing he would do when he got home was hit the shower.

While he patted snow firmly into place, digging in and smoothing over various areas to achieve the desired form, he would steal glances at Maka. She worked with a single-minded determination that had annoyed him in his younger years, but now found endearing. He loved how she could get so caught up in something that she lost track of everything else, the glow of satisfied accomplishment she got when she finished. Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to be at the center of that focus, before quashing that thought to get back to the job at hand. And really, he had other things to worry about before he could begin thinking about that. Wes, for instance. Was he serious about Maka? Soul couldn't see that working out. Wes was a quiet, non-aggressive person, more suited to a peaceful life than what Maka was looking for.

Or was she? Was there a part of her that would prefer to go at a slower pace? Not being in a life-or-death situation three times by Thursday? He didn't really think so, but that could be his own hopes skewing things in his favor. His brother had nice manners and was well-spoken. He could probably discuss literature with Maka easily, something he knew she adored but wasn't able to provide himself. He was alright if the book had enough action or humor to hold his interest, but beyond that, he was swimming out of his depth. Worry began to gnaw at him, as delicately as a mouse that knew it was being watched. Besides being her weapon, what could he really offer her that Wes couldn't do better? Besides sarcasm. And holing himself up in his room. Or merciless teasing. The more he thought, the harder that mouse began to nibble, until it had morphed into a ravenous wolf, consuming him from the inside. No matter how he looked at it, Wes was the better catch. Desperately, he tried to come up with something that might help secure her affections, but could think of nothing that didn't seem forced or contrived. Changing himself wasn't an option. He was who he was, faults and all. He could always improve himself, do a bit of growing, but that took more than the handful of days they had left here.

"Soul? We're done for the day. Come on, let's go find Wes. You barely broke for lunch, so I know you're ready to eat by now."

Her voice and hand on his arm pulled him from the surface of his thoughts as he idly wondered what he had eaten for lunch. He couldn't remember; his day was nothing but a shimmering white haze of snow and desperation. He dusted the clumps of snow from his pants as he stood to join her, assessing the progress they had made today. The Ninetails was almost completely done, stranding nearly nine feet tall, its tails fanned out in the air behind it. All they had left was to carve a bit more definition into it and add the Vulpix scattered around it, and the would be done.

Maka too seemed pleased with their efforts, and as they walked in the direction of the truck, they made sure to get a look at the competition. Some were obviously made by young children, their entries looking more like blobs of mashed potatoes than anything else. Others would give them a more serious run for their money, like the Godzilla or the panther. Then there were a few that had decided that they would just make something to amuse themselves, like the eleven foot dick that was being furiously argued over by irate parents.

Standing next to the truck, Wes waved them over, promising them a steak dinner with baked potatoes the size of their heads when they got home and changed. That sounded like heaven to Soul. Whatever he had eaten for lunch had not stuck with him, and his stomach was getting far too intimate with his spine. They all agreed not to tell what their entries were, instead waiting to be surprised when the contest was over. Soul hoped that for once he could come out ahead of his brother, so Maka could see that maybe he was better at something, even if it was just clumping up snow together. He grit his teeth as he stared at the truck window, watching the trees blur as they sped by. He hated this feeling of rivalry that Wes always seemed to inspire in him. It was pointless, and he knew it. But as he listened to the others talk animatedly about the other sculptures both here and in past events that Wes remembered, he could, he couldn't help the flicker of jealousy that burned in his heart.

The next day was much like the first, with Maka immersed in her work and Soul brooding as he moved on autopilot, his mind darting in a million scattered directions while his movements stayed robotically precise. Once again Wes had disappeared into the crowd, telling them he would meet them at the bandstand when it was time to announce the winners.

Maka was pleased with how well their entry was turning out. In her opinion, they even had a good chance of winning! She hoped they did. Maybe it would pull Soul out of the funk he seemed to have fallen into. He had hardly said a word last night, and when he had, he had been monotone and listless, as if he was disconnected from everyone around him. His eyes had taken on that dull, matte shade, the way it always did when he pulled into himself. But somehow, she had the uneasy feeling that this time was worse. If only he would open up with her, she could help him figure out a way to feel better. She knew he wouldn't. That hadn't been his style five years ago, and it wasn't his style now. Patting a lock of a Vulpix hair into place, she shot a look at Soul, who was stolidly balancing another Vulpix on it's hindlegs, it's front feet resting on the haunch of the Ninetails.

"Hey, Soul? I think we have a good chance of winning, don't you?" she asked brightly, attempting to draw him into conversation.

Blinking rapidly, the fog faded from his eyes as he tried to process her words. "Maybe, although there are some other pretty good pieces, and you never can tell about the judges' preferences." he answered cautiously, not wanting to get his hopes too high.

Maka turned in a slow circle, trying to pick out the biggest threat. "Oh, come on! You know you'd love it if we won. Name one thing we've seen that could beat us!"

A small chuckle escaped him at her insistence. "I dunno; that dick we saw was pretty impressive." he teased, waiting for her to blush and splutter. He was nonplussed when her face broke into a wicked smile.

"I can't wait to tell Black*Star that you spent the trip checking out impressive dicks." she snickered, watching his face blend with the snow.

"You wouldn't-I didn't!" he panicked, knowing how miserable the hyperactive ninja could make his life if he got ahold of that kind of information. Self preservation prompted him to turn the tables. Or at least give them a shake.

"You can't tell me that you didn't think it was pretty impressive, too! That thing was huge!"

If possible, her smile became even more sly. "Silly Soul, don't you know that size isn't everything? There's width, and...technique." she spoke half flirtatiously, pleased that there was a spark back in his eyes.

Soul felt his jaw slide down his chest. "You can't...you didn't just...are you sayin' that eleven feet isn't enough for you, woman?"

She was on the brink of replying that from what she had seen from the pictures that that wouldn't be a problem, when feedback sounded over the loudspeaker. The ten minute mark was announced, and they went into overdrive putting in the finishing details, finishing as time was called. They waited tensely as the judges made their way around, giving their names when it was their turn. There were two women and a man, and they gave nothing away as they whispered among themselves, pens scratching away on paper as they took notes.

Once they had left, Soul and Maka wandered in the direction of the bandstand, mildly arguing over whether or not they should have added another Vulpix. A hand on Soul's shoulder interrupted them, and they turned to find Wes beaming back at them.

"So I guess you two have already been judged? I circled through after my turn, but didn't see you. Which one was yours?"

Maka smiled. "Ours was the Pokèmon one. Did you see it?"

"I did! Very well done! Looks like you haven't lost your touch, Soul." Wes praised.

"Maka did just as much." Soul muttered, his earlier gloom threatening to return. "Which one did you do? And where's your partner?"

Wes rubbed the back of his head. "Actually, my partner never showed up yesterday. Seems he came down with the flu, so I ended up doing it by myself. You may not have seen it, since it's over on the other side of the restrooms. Want to take a look?"

He lead them through the people who were killing time until the winner was announced, and when Soul saw what they were coming to, his heart sank. Somehow, by himself, Wes had managed to make a dolphin that rivaled the size of the dick they had seen, leaping out of a wave. As an added effect, he had managed to get a piece of ice to look like the dolphin was spitting water into the air.

"You did this all by yourself?" Maka gushed. "Wes, that's amazing!"

Soul muttered darkly under his breath. "Of course it is. And you should see the way he walks on water." The sharp look his brother sent him let him know he had been heard, but he didn't care. Once again he had been bested, and this time, in front of Maka. Who of course was too busy fawning over Wes to notice he was upset, he thought sulkily. Once again, the loudspeaker blasted out, summoning the contestants to announce the results. Hurrying back, they were just in time for the mayor to hand out the third trophy, going to a group of teenagers that had replicated the Doctor Who TARDIS. After the applause had died down, the second place name was read off.

"And in second place, with his lovely and graceful dolphin, is Wes Evans!"

Soul was too stunned to clap, searching around him for more signs of the Apocalypse. Wes had actually lost something! For the first time that Soul could remember, his brother had failed to come in first. He didn't care who won first now; this was enough to get him by.

"And the winner, with their charming and whimsical Pokèmon display, Maka Albarn and Soul Evans! Congratulations, you two! Come on up here and take your prize!"

Soul didn't know how he did it, but he managed to find himself standing next to Maka, his hand being vigorously pumped by the mayor as they were handed the check. They had won! Wes had lost! He didn't know which was better. Grinning from ear to ear, he slung an arm around Maka's shoulders, using his other hand to ruffle her hair.

"We won! See, I told you we could do it!" he crowed, wearing a jubilant grin.

Maka ducked out from under his arm, laughing as she playfully punched his shoulder. "You liar! You were the one who was all cynical about! But you know, I kind of think they made the wrong choice."

He froze, puzzled, hoping she didn't mean what he thought she did. "What do you mean? I thought you wanted to win."

Maka tried to put her hands behind her back as was her habit as they walked along, but the thickness of her coat made it too uncomfortable. "Of course i wanted to win. It's just now that I've seen Wes', I think he should've gotten first place."

The joy leaked out of him like the helium from a birthday balloon. "Well, sorry I wasn't good enough! Maybe next time you should team up with him!" he bit out stiffly, increasing his pace until he was just a head of white hair bobbing in the distance.

Confused, Maka looked at Wes, who flinched in sympathy for Soul. "Um, Maka, don't you think that was a little harsh? Soul was so happy that the two of you won."

"I was too! I don't understand why he's so upset, though."

"Because after all the time and effort you both put into it, you said you liked mine better. I think you hurt his feelings." Wes explained gently.

Her eyes widened in shock. "But all I meant was that we had two people on our team, and you did that all by yourself, which must have been harder!" she felt guilty, like she had just kicked a puppy that was pleased about learning a new trick.

Leaving Wes behind, she hurried to catch up to Soul. He was leaning against the truck, waiting for the door to be unlocked. Reaching his side, she placed a hand on his tightly folded arms.

"Soul, you got the wrong idea back there! It's not that I-"

"Forget it. It's not a big deal. Shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it." his voice was heavy, and Maka wondered if she had ever seen him so...dispirited. It was just a pile of snow, right?"

"So...what do you want to do with the prize money?" she asked, hoping a change of subject would lighten the mood.

"I don't care. Do what you want with it." when he saw her flinch at his harsh tone, he mentally slapped himself. "Sorry, that didn't come out right. I think you should save it. You're gonna want all the money you can scrape up once you see what I got you for Christmas."

Maka raised an eyebrow at him. "You got me something that I'm going to have to spend even more money on? Soul, you better not have gotten that python you were looking at as a 'gift' for me!"

He had to laugh; leave it to Maka to jump to the worst possible conclusion.

"You wouldn't like it? But it was such an awesome snake! It was big enough it could eat Freya in one bite!"

Maka socked his shoulder, appalled at the mental image. "How could you even say something like that!"

His arms raised defensively, warding off any more blows. "Fine, fine! It was big enough to swallow Blair! That better?"

Her fists paused in mid-swing. "I should say no, but..." their resulting laughter was interrupted by Wes, who had stayed back to give them time to make up. Unlocking the door, he slid behind the wheel and started the engine, turning on the heat as the others loaded up.

"I don't know about the two of you, but I'm starving. How does a victory pot roast dinner sound?"

Soul's stomach rumbled in answer, and a few seconds later Maka's echoed its mating call.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." he chuckled, inching through the traffic.

Soul stared out the window, attempting to pull himself together. He was still hurt, but he thought he was doing a good job of hiding it. It had been kind of Maka to try to make him feel better, but that was just the kind of person she was, hating to see anyone upset. He hadn't meant to make her feel bad with his abruptness, and knew he needed to watch himself before he made it worse. Hopefully, he could make it up to her at the night ice skating tomorrow night, something he knew she was looking forward to. Surely that would go better. There was nothing there to compete over. He wouldn't lose anymore ground to Wes...would he? A cold lump in his stomach that had nothing to do with the weather forced him to admit he wasn't so sure.

The next day, Wes had a rehearsal with the rest of the orchestra, and would be out most of the day, until it was almost time for the skating to begin. That left Soul and Maka to entertain themselves at home, since neither really felt like going out. Maka had grabbed a blanket and curled into a corner of the couch, holding a book in one hand and stroking Freya with the other. Soul had rooted around in the entertainment system, and found that the old Nintendo had been hooked up. He inserted the Street Fighter cartridge, prepared to spend the day drowning his doubts and misgivings in out-dated but still satisfying graphics.

Maka peeked at him over the edge of her book. His nimble fingers were flying in convoluted patterns over the controller, and a voice at the back of her mind whispered that he could toy with her buttons any time. Her thighs squeezed together, and she bit her lower lip. Now seemed like a perfect time to tell him, but with her luck, he would just fall asleep again faster than you can say, CHUN-LEE WINS! Besides, she had promised herself that she would wait, and judging by the hollow look in his eyes and the tightness in his shoulders, there was something besides the video game weighing heavy on his mind. Pushing back inappropriate thoughts of pushing him down on the couch and having her way with him, she waited for the round to end, then slid her legs onto his lap, spreading the blanket over him. He gave a grunt of thanks as he raised his arms to accommodate her, and Maka went back to her book, trying not to think of how many more days she had to get through until they could go home.

Soul went through the movements of the game by rote, the combinations learned in his childhood being picked up as if no time had passed at all. This was not occupying his attention as much as he wished, but at least it gave him the appearance of being busy. If Maka saw that something was bothering him, she would probably try to figure out what it was. And since he had absolutely no intention of coming straight out and asking if she had fallen for his brother, he was doing his best to stay low. At the warm weight of her legs across his thighs, he gripped the controller tighter, wishing he could pull her close. He always felt better for touching her, but it would be a dead giveaway to his state of mind. Wrenching his thoughts away from their dark path, he instead focused on savoring every minute that they were alone together. He knew, as soon as Wes returned, that this peaceful lull would be over. He just wished he could come up with a way to regain the confidence he needed to approach her.

The day passed slowly, quietly, with nothing of importance being said. There were undercurrents in the small talk, but neither picked up on it, consumed by their own concerns. The sun had set and supper had been eaten by the time Wes returned, looking tired yet energized at the same time. He called out that he would be ready to leave as soon as he had changed clothes, leaving them to stretch languorously as they stood, heading for the door to don coats, gloves and boots.

Maka had just forced Soul into a dark red scarf that he insisted he didn't need when Wes joined them, telling them that they should bundle up as much as possible. Once they all had on as many layers as they could manage without having to waddle, they loaded up in the truck, the headlights cutting a path through the light dusting of snow that was falling.

"So what exactly goes on at one of these things?" Maka asked with excited curiosity, since her only experience ice skating had been with indoor rinks.

"It's quite fun. While skating competitions are held during the day, at night it's purely for fun, and there's always a big turn-out. It takes place at the large pond by the park, where paper lanterns are strung up, and small bonfires are set up to keep warm." Wes explained as he kept a careful eye out for any deer that might wander out onto the road. "Skate rental is only two dollars, and there are some stalls that sell things like hot drinks, chestnuts, and kettle corn. It starts at eight and goes on until midnight, so that's a good four hours you have to skate to your heart's content. Soul and I always loved it because it was one of the rare times we were able to stay up so late. Right, Soul?" Wes smiled warmly over at him, fondly remembering the younger brother that used to tag along after him like a duckling with its mother.

Soul smirked. "Yeah, one of the few times that it wasn't something to do with some kind of concert. Although that time you fell on the ice and almost broke your wrist, I thought Dad was gonna have a heart attack."

"And Mother wailing at the doctor, 'will my precious boy ever be able to play the violin again? Oh, this is too much! His poor little hand!"

"Her precious wittle shnookums was nearly seventeen years old! You shoulda seen the look on the doctor's face!"

The brothers hooted with laughter, Maka wearing a pleased smile in the back seat. This was more like it; this was how she had hoped things would go between them. Silently, she encouraged Soul to keep it up. She listened quietly as the two reminisced further, each reminding the other of things that had happened years ago, time seeming to peel back to leave two young boys in the front seat. All too soon it was over, the laughter dying as the lights a town came into view. A part of Maka wished they could keep on driving, so she could watch the rift between siblings knit together as the miles sped by under the tires.

Wes parked among an already large group of cars, and they crunched through the snow to the near edge of the pond, where the skate rental was set up. There was only a small line, and they managed to get their skates with little trouble, until it was Soul's turn. He was told, apologetically, that they no longer had any left in his size. Resigning himself to watching Wes sail across the ice with Maka, he was surprised when she grabbed his arm, tugging him after her with a grin.

"Maka, I'm afraid they don't let anyone onto the ice without skates." Wes warned, wondering if Soul could get a larger size if he put on a few more sets of socks.

"Don't worry, Soul will be fine!"

SOul dug his heels in at the edge, looking at her quizzically. Without skates, he would slip worse than a greased pig out there.

"Think about it! Skates are just shoes with blades attached, right?"

Light dawned as he got what she had in mind. Grinning, he stepped onto the frozen pond, transforming two thin blades on the bottom of his shoes, snickering at the look of shock on Wes' face.

"I had forgotten you could do that! Of course, I've only ever see you transform your arm, but it looks as though you've learned to control it remarkably well." Wes praised, still amazed at the way Soul's body could slide so easily from flesh and bone into metal.

Maka, who had been itching to speed off and test her skates, stared at Wes. "You mean you've never seen his full weapon form? We'll have to show you before we leave!"

"That would be great! And if I'm not mistaken, I seem to remember Soul mention something about being able to fly in his weapon form?"

Her pigtails bouced as she nodded happily. "Yes, but it's only with me, because of my Grigori soul. And there's not really enough room for another person, so we won't be able to give you a ride."

Wes stepped onto the ice, grinning at them roguishly. "Not a problem. I have no desire to mount and ride my brother; I'll leave that entirely up to you. Oh, I think that's Marcus Pegdon over there, I must go say hello. See you later!' And he sped off, leaving them choking over his double meaning, each mentally shoving the images that had been conjured up firmly to the back of their minds.

To put a bit of distance from herself and the source of her overactive imagination, Maka pushed off the ice, intending to join the throngs of other skaters. But since it had been several years, her balance was off, and she felt her skates begin to pull her in two directions. She was saved from doing an inelegant version of the splits by Soul, who grabbed her by one arm, placing his other hand at the small of her back as they skated slowly at the edges, out of the faster skater's way.

"Thanks, Soul. I should get the hang of it in a few minutes." she said this, but decided to milk out a little extra time, their positions making them look like the couples who were skating around them.

"No problem. You'll be out there goin' faster than everyone else before the night's over, if I know you." his tone was light, hiding the regret he felt. He would be more than happy to stay like this, by her side and hand fitted on her waist like it belonged there. Even if there was about a dozen layers of clothes under her coat.

Maka picked up on a rhythm, pushing off one foot and then the other, shifting her weight back and forth.

"Are you doing alright without skates?" she asked, looking for any signs that he was having trouble.

He thought a minute, and shrugged. "It's a little weird since I can feel the ice, but other than that, I think I kinda like it better than regular skates. Wonder if it would be legal in a competition."

"Does that mean you can go faster? Want to test it out?" a competitive gleam shone in her eye, which Soul caught.

"What about you? Can you speed up, or are you gonna go back to being Bambi on ice as soon as I move away?" he teased.

Maka pulled away from him, crouching slightly. "Bring it! One lap around...ready, go!" and she shot off, before he had time to get set.

Growling, he fixed his eyes on her retreating form, taking off after her. He caught up at the first bend in the pond, pulling along side her as she took the turn. Neither was willing to give an inch, and they matched one another pace for pace, never being able to get more then a step or two ahead. They slowed as they came to the tree that marked the beginning of their round, each claiming to have gotten there first. Soul snorted at her stubbornness as they moved aside to let a family with several young children by, pleasantly surprised when Maka took his hand as they continued in a more leisurely manner. He kept a sharp eye out for Wes, but there were dozens of men in gray ski caps, so it wasn't much use.

After a while, they stopped for a break, splitting a bag of chestnuts as they sat on a bench, watching some of the more talented skaters perform tricks and spins in the middle of the ice. They laughed at a couple of boys in their early teens who were trying to impress their dates, but ended up belly flopping on the ice instead, the girls rolling their eyes and skating off without them.

Maka shook her head at the spectacle, as the boys regrouped for another try. "Why do guys always think they have to impress a girl by showing off?"

Soul tossed the empty bag in the trashcan that had been placed by the bench. "Not all guys. It's never been my style."

Standing, she stepped in the direction of the ice. "That's because you haven't really been interested in anyone yet. As soon as you are, I'm sure you'll be jumping from ridiculously high places and shouting, 'hey, watch this!' With the best of them." careful, Maka. Don't let your jealousy show.

He followed her, wondering if he should come right out and say that he seriously doubted she would find anything he did impressive, knowing him as well as she did.

"Wouldn't work for me, anyway. You have to be good at somethin' first, which doesn't leave me much besides being a weapon. Not exactly a chick magnet."

Maka rolled her eyes and took his hand as they once again began making a circuit of the pond. "Don't be stupid! You're good at a lot of things! Besides, all you would really have to do is play the piano."

"The piano? Yeah, right. Like my music would work like that." Soul sneered.

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout. "It worked on me." she spoke before she thought, but relaxed when Soul didn't seem to understand her meaning.

"You know I hate playing for people. I'll only play for you." he stated seriously. If there was one girl he would want to swoon over his music, it was her.

"You play for our friends sometimes." she pointed out, secretly pleased that she wouldn't have to share that part of him with another girl.

"Only when you make me, and I can't find a way to weasel out of it." he countered.

"So I'm the only one who gets to listen to you play...careful, or I might get spoiled." God, she wished she knew how to flirt better. This was a perfect chance, and she was most likely flubbing it.

Soul's mind was racing. She obviously hadn't understood that he had been speaking in a romantic sense, but in spite of that, she seemed to be...flirting with him? Or was she. Maybe he was reading it wrong. But no, no matter how he looked at it, it looked like flirting. He glanced sideways to get a glimpse of her face, searching for any tell-tale signs that her mind was traveling the same path as his. Unfortunately, Maka had carefully schooled her features into her normal expression, causing him to deflate somewhat. It appeared that it had only been the teasing kind of flirting between two friends. Time to change the subject.

"Speakin' of being spoiled, how about I go get us somethin' to drink? We've been skatin' a while, and it's almost over. The stalls are gonna shut down soon, and I'd like to get some hot cider. Aren't you thirsty too?"

Maka wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. "I'm thirsty, but I don't think I want any cider. I tried a sample at the store once, and it wasn't very good."

Rolling his eyes, he moved off towards the opposite bank where the concessions were set up, pulling her along. "Of course it wasn't any good! That store bought shit is crap! The stuff they have here is homemade, and it's delicious. Let me get you a cup, and if you don't like it, I'll drink the rest."

She shoved him ahead of her. "Yeah, and you'll probably drink the rest even if I do like it!"

He waved cheekily as he skated off backwards, telling her to stay close so he could find her again. Maka watched as he disappeared into the crowd, skating in small circles as she waited. Her thoughts drifted to Soul, as they were want to do, and she mused over the fact that he was always getting her to try new things. While Maka was a bit more socially outgoing and more accepting of crowds than he was, she was also prone to sticking with the familiar, never drifting to far into uncharted territory.

Ever since the beginning, Soul had pressed her into new situations, and while some, notably the beef tongue, had not all been enjoyable, for the most part she was thankful for his prodding. Before he had insisted she read some of his comic books, she had been of the opinion that they were shallow things aimed only at children. While that was certainly the case in some of them, she had quickly discovered that there were many with complex plots and as well developed characters as anything out of a book. Whenever she fell into a rut, Soul was always there to pull her out, with anything from a new style of music to a dish she had never tried. He made life a series of small adventures, a fantastic exploration of undiscovered pleasures. Her cheeks heated as she thought of some undiscovered pleasures she would like to explore with him...her attention was jerked back to the outside world as the blade of her skate caught in a gouge in the ice, sending her windmilling for balance. Just when she thought she would fall, two strong arms wrapped around her, and she relaxed. Of course Soul would catch her. She couldn't remember a time that she had fallen that he hadn't, or hadn't at least ended up under her. More wicked thoughts deepened her blush, and she looked up to thank him, only to be hit with a jolt of surprise. That wasn't Soul, it was Wes!

Scrambling away, she shook herself. How could she have made such a stupid mistake? Soul had gone off in the opposite direction; there was no way he could have come up behind her like that!

He gave her a knowing look. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't think you wanted to faceplant into the ice, even if you were saved by the wrong brother." he smiled at the deer in the headlights expression that his words elicited.

Maka froze as if she was made of the very ice under her feet. WAS SHE THAT OBVIOUS?! And if so, why had the wrong damned brother picked up on it? Before she could stutter some half-baked denial that she knew he wouldn't belive, she was saved by the arrival of Soul. A little too late, but better than nothing. She accepted the cup he offered her with a smile, puzzled at his dark scowl. What had happened to him to bring him down so fast?

Soul hid the murderous glare that he wanted to aim at Wes behind the rim of his cup, the once sweet cider now sour as it trickled down his throat. He had happily trotted off to get the drinks, waiting his turn to pay for the two steaming cups handed to him by the cheerfully smiling grandmother type behind the stall. Once done, he had quickly made his way back, wanting to get Maka to try the cider before it cooled in the night air. From a distance, he had began scanning for her, then stopped dead. The vision before him threatened to turn his stomach; there was Maka, a soft smile on her face and her cheeks blushing furiously, standing in his brother's embrace. He didn't know whether to scream or cry. Later, he supposed he would do both, once he could muffle the sounds into his pillow. For now he could only move forward, struggling to pretend that his heart wasn't shattering into a million jagged pieces that were threatening to cut him open from the inside. A large group of people passed in front of him on their way to the cars, as it was getting late, and by the time he could see again, Maka and Wes had moved away from each other.

Unable to trust his voice, he had handed her the cup. She took a tentative sip, and her eyes lit up. "You were right! This is nothing like what they had at the store!"

Where a few minutes before he would have been pleased by her reaction, now all he wanted to do was to go home and escape to the privacy of his own room, until the pain in his chest dulled to a manageable level.

"I see you found Mrs. Grimmsly's cider. She sets up here every year, no matter what, and it's always one of the best sellers. Are you two ready to go, or do you want to do a few more laps after you finish your drinks?"

"I'd like to go around a few m-"

"I'm ready to go."

Maka blinked, confused. Soul's good mood had vanished as if it had never been there, leaving her to wonder why he was so blue.

Wes, on the other hand, had a pretty shrewd guess. "Soul can wait here, and we can go by ourselves if you'd like." he offered, noting the way Soul's fingers contracted around his cup, crumpling it.

Warning bells went off. She didn't know why, but she knew that that would be a bad idea. "No, I think I'm tired after all. It just hadn't hit me yet." she moved closer to Soul, but he wouldn't meet her eyes, instead taking her now empty cup and throwing it away along with his. They walked silently to the truck, and the ride home was tense, the polite questions about there evening being answered by a distracted Maka, and a flat-toned Soul when he was forced to speak. The air was thick with some type of hostility, and Maka, sensitive as she was, was being driven crazy trying to figure it out. She was still picking at the problem like a tangled up necklace when they went up to bed, Soul dragging along heavily in front of her.

Reaching out a hand, she took hold of his wrist, stopping him at his door. "Soul...is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Anything at all?" she pleaded.

He stopped, taking in the miserable look in her eyes, as if she thought she had done something wrong. He couldn't help contrasting the casual way she had appeared when they had flirted earlier with the breathless, almost loving look she had worn with Wes. His insides twisted. He hadn't been able to make her look at him with affection then, and now he was making her feel lousy. He really was no good. Shakily, he tugged on a pigtail, the smile on his face a shadow of its usual self.

"I'm fine, just had a headache come on. It should be gone by tomorrow."

Slowly, Maka nodded. He was lying, she could tell, she could hear it in the brittle way his voice came out, the shuttered look in his eyes. "Alright...but if you change your mind, please tell me. I hate it when you're not happy."

Her door shut softly, and he entered his own room, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He had been far too close to telling her that if she wanted him to feel better, she would fall in love with him instead of upgrading to the better model. Heavy in spirit as well as body, he changed for bed, falling into the embrace of his fears and insecurities like it was an old friend. The darkness ate away at him as he fell into a fitful sleep, his regrets over lost chances consuming him.

Though he didn't actually remember falling asleep, he must have done so, for he awoke with a dull pounding in his head, tongue thick in his mouth. He tried to move, but the effort was to much, and so he gave up, curling onto his side. They must have wondered why he hadn't come to breakfast, for there was a knock on his door, which opened at his feeble answer. Maka entered, followed by Wes. Taking one look at him, she flew to the bed.

"Soul! You look awful! And you're burning up! Stay there, and I'll get you some medicine!" she darted out of the room, and it wasn't long before she returned, box in hand. She popped out a couple of pills and handed them to him, along with the glass of water he kept by his bed. He swallowed them, lips curling back at the taste. When he tried to swing his legs out of bed, Wes stopped him.

"Soul, I don't think you should be up. You look like hell, and you need to rest. A few days in bed, and you'll be fine. I'll go make you some toast, if you think you can keep it down."

"He's right. Just get some sleep, and I'll wake you up when it's time to take your medicine again. And if it gets worse, tell me so we can get you to a doctor." Maka instructed worriedly. This must have been why he was acting so strangely. He was sick, and had probably been fighting it.

He slumped back into his pillow, dizzy from sitting up.

"But what will you do?" he croaked, vision slightly fuzzy. His eyes, which had been at half mast, shot open as Wes placed a hand on her shoulder, giving him a wicked grin that she couldn't see.

"Don't worry about Maka. I'll make sure that she's taken care of. She won't have a chance to be bored at all."

Soul lunged to the opposite side of the bed, where he was violently ill into the conveniently placed traschcan. As he passed out, he thought that that had summed up his feelings more eloquently than words ever could.

The first thing he noticed upon awaking was that the elephant was no longer sitting on his head. Ditto the river dancing camels on his eyelids. Testing his luck, he slowly levered himself into a sitting position, letting out a relieved sigh when his stomach remained in it's proper place. Easing out of bed, he was pleased to find that he felt perfectly normal. Hungry, even. Yes, definitely hungry. He took a deep breath, gagging slightly. Food later, shower first. As he rooted through the drawers to the dresser, his door opened and Maka came in.

"Soul! Are you feeling better? Should you be out of bed?" she fussed over him, feeling his forehead for any sign of a temperature.

"I'm fine, and I can't stand the thought of stayin' in that bed another day. Four days of bed rest is more than enough for even me." he edged around her to the door, the siren song of soap and hot water beckoning him on.

Maka tagged after him, suspicious that he was pushing it. "Well, you picked a good day to feel better. Today's the twenty-third, and tonight's the night we had planned to set up skype and sync our DVDs, remember?"

He paused at the bathroom door. Every year, he, Maka, and the rest of their friends had a tradition of watching a Muppet Christmas Carol and eating junk food. This being the first year they wouldn't make it, they had decided to skype through Maka's laptop while both groups watched the movie.

Which reminded him of the other part of the tradition that he was less keen on. The matching sweaters.

"Do I have to wear it?" he whined. "Who even picked this year, anyway?" he hadn't been allowed to look, and Maka had packed his, knowing he would manage to accidentally on purpose forget it.

"Yes, you have to wear it! And this year was Patty's turn to pick."

"Soooo, giraffes in Santa hats, then?"

Maka rubbed her temples. "I wish. No, this year we have mating reindeer splashed across our chests." she loved Patty, she really did, but she wasn't thrilled about wearing a shirt that was more sexually active than she was.

Soul was leaning on the doorframe, tears running down his cheeks. "This is gonna be the best Christmas sweater ever! I think I may even wear it on a regular basis!"

"Yeah, not going to happen. Hurry up and take your shower; I'll go make sure that there's enough lunch for you, since you slept through breakfast."

As Soul stripped off to get in the shower, his amusement over Patty's choice of fashion faded. His thoughts drifted to what could have been happening between Maka and Wes while he was out of commission. With the combination of sickness and medication, he hadn't been very lucid, the past few days being mostly a blur. He could recall flashes of her face hovering over him, but he knew she couldn't have stayed with him the entire time. Which gave Wes the perfect chance to be his smooth, charming self, he thought as he viciously scrubbed his body with a lathered up washcloth.

Shutting the water off with a snap, he stepped out and towled himself dry, bracing himself to go down and see how much damage had been done. Sliding on his jeans, he decided against the shirt. He would go get his Christmas sweater from Maka's room; he needed a little something to brighten his day.

She had made it easy enough by leaving it folded neatly on her bed next to hers, and he jammed the red and green homage to reindeer porn over his head once he figured out which one was his. Feeling marginally festive, he set his sights on food.

In the kitchen, he found Maka scraping chicken stir-fry onto a plate, gesturing for him to sit down. "I see you found your sweater already. I was hoping we could wait until tonight to scar your brother."

She watched in satisfaction as he ate with an appetite, a good sign that he wasn't faking his recovery. While she appeared calm, inside she was a ball of nerves. They would be going home in three days, where she planned to lay everything on the line as soon as she got them alone in their apartment. She hoped his moodiness had cleared up by then, or she might lose her nerve all together.

The thought of scandalizing Wes made Soul brighten perceptibly. He nursed the hope that his expression would match his mother's the time he trailed fresh dog crap across the new white carpet in the drawing room. This vision was still being entertained when Wes entered the room to return an empty mug to the sink.

"Hello, Soul! It's good to see you up. I was beginning to be afraid that you'd miss Christmas."

Soul bared his teeth in a false grin. "Of course I'm up. Couldn't let you two have all the fun now, could I?" his eyes rivaled Maka's in green-ness as he flicked his gaze from one to the other. "So what did I miss? I'm positive you made sure she didn't wear herself out sitting with me the whole time."

Wes leaned against the counter, crossing his long legs at the ankles. "That would have been rude. We set up the Christmas decorations, played some board games..."

From her position of bending into the fridge to grab some grape juice, Maka giggled. Wes, for all of his polished manners, was as big of a dork as she had ever come across. He hid it well, but she had caught enough traces of it to have him pegged.

Hearing her, Soul's appetite flagged, and he pushed the plate away as his brother continued to speak.

"And she's a wonderful audience. She listened to me practice every day, and seemed to enjoy it as much every time."

Soul instantly regretted getting up. Maka had always seemed to have a soft spot for his music, which both confused and warmed him, but now Wes had stolen that away, too. Everyone who had ever listened to them perform had always ended up choosing Wes' playing over his, and there was no reason to expect Maka to be any different. Besides, he thought dismally, Wes really was the better musician. Unsteadily, he pushed back from the table and stood.

I...think I'll go take a nap until tonight. Call me when it's time, alright?" he asked faintly.

Alarmed, Maka sprang across the kitchen. "Are you okay? Do you need some more medicine? A doctor? Where does it hurt?"

He gently brushed her hands away. Telling her the only thing that was hurting was his heart would only confuse her.

"I don't need medicine or a doctor. I just wanna make sure I don't get sick again before tonight. Don't worry so much, or you're gonna get wrinkles." he teased half-heartedly as he made his escape, leaving a bewildered Maka and a frustrated Wes behind.

Once in his room, he sprawled on the bed, neck propped up by a pillow. He fiddled with his Ipod, but didn't turn it on. There was a war being waged in his mind. One one side, his emotions and insecurities were tearing him up, leaving him a wreck. On the other side, logic was telling him to deal with it, or to at least stop being such an emo boy before the compulsion to cake on some black eyeliner and write Crona level poetry overwhelmed him. Looked at objectively, he knew he was overreacting, but it wasn't like he didn't have valid reasons. Because not only had Wes beaten him in every category imaginable, but he had also always managed to be first in the affections of others, as well. One would think first and foremost of his parents in that regard, but it extended to other people, too. Including girls.

Wes had always been popular with the ladies, and for a long time, that had been the one area where Soul felt no desire to overtake him. That changed when he was ten years old, and he fell in love for the first time. Or as in love as it was possible for a ten year old. Her name was Veronica Shore, and her parents were close friends with Soul's. They had been in the same grade for two years, and had been fairly close. Soul had thought she was beautiful, with her silky black hair and dark blue eyes. They had spent a lot of time together, and she frequently came over to his house for his mother to give her piano lessons.

One day, he had finally worked up the courage to tell her how he felt, his palms sweaty with nerves and his heart beating irregularly. He had made sure they were in the backyard by the swingset, where no one could overhear him. Just as he had opened his mouth, she had spoken, saying there was something she wanted to talk about. Elation had filled him; she was going to be the one to say it first! Her next words sucked the joy right out of him. For a long time now, she had had a crush on Wes. She knew it wouldn't work. What sixteen year old would look at a girl of ten? Knowing that didn't make it any easier. He was everything a girl could want; kind-hearted, funny and talented, and handsome, too. Soul had sat on the swing next to her in agonized silence as she poured her heart out to him. There was no way he could tell her now. Her revelation had been bad enough, but then she had made it worse. In a half sad, half teasing way, she said she would be willing to settle for him. For Soul, that had been worse than being outright rejected. Instead of being considered his own person, he was treated like an inferior copy of Wes. He hadn't let her see that it had bothered him, but he couldn't help letting it affect their friendship, and they had drifted apart.

Though the situation with Maka wasn't quite the same, it accounted for his inability to confess, and his blind acceptance that of course Wes would be desired over him. In his eyes, there was no other possible outcome; it had simply never happened before. A microscopic part of him was still unwilling to give up, but it wouldn't take much to kill even that flicker of hope. He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, ignoring the way the sweater itched at his skin. If Maka did choose Wes, he would have to take great care to conceal how he felt. For one thing, he knew that Maka would hate hurting him. For another, it might make things awkward between them. Even if he couldn't have her love, he refused to give up being her friend and weapon. Just because he couldn't have her for himself didn't mean he could tolerate the thought of her going into a dangerous situation without him being there to have her back. If all he could be was her partner, he would throw himself into that, and be glad he had that much. It wasn't enough, but he would learn to be content, if not happy with it.

Sleep had been the farthest thing from his mind when he had come upstairs, but the next thing he was aware of was the gentle rapping on his door. Wiping the sleep from the corners of his eyes, he opened the door, Maka's hand still raised in mid-knock.

"Hey...do you feel well enough to come down? It's almost time to start the movie." her voice was quiet, unlike the way she usually was during their holiday traditions.

Guiltily, Soul resolved to keep his emotions under control. Just because he was upset was no reason Maka shouldn't enjoy herself. She had done nothing wrong, so he needed to stop making her feel bad.

"I'm kinda thirsty, but otherwise I'm fine. I'll go get some...some...oh god, this is too much!" he couldn't help himself. As he had spoken, he got a good look at her, and saw that she had changed into her sweater. The image of Maka Albarn in what amounted to a Playboy Reindeer centerfold sweater was too much for his twisted mind, and he was shaking with restrained laughter.

Maka glared at him. "You're as bad as Wes. He wanted to know where he could buy one. He said the two of you should wear them and send a picture to you're parents for Christmas."

This notion intrigued Soul. "Damn, I shoulda thought of that. But I guess it's too late now, with only two days left." he followed her down the stairs, mourning the loss of a perfect prank. His father totally would have shit a litter of kittens.

In the living room, Soul saw that Maka's laptop was already set up on the coffee table, and the DVD was on the menu screen on the tv. There were still a few minutes before it was time to make the Skype call, and they used them to grab some snacks, Soul fixing some orange tea while Maka popped the popcorn. Grabbing a few assorted boxes of candy, they trooped into the living room, making themselves comfortable on the couch.

As the minute hand ticked closer to marking the hour, Maka initiated the video call, adjusting the volume to a bearable level. LIz's grinning face appeared, before she moved back so everyone could be seen, the effect being that of a red and green reindeer orgy. Black*Star popped up, laughing loudly and wearing a Santa hat. He had an antler wearing Kid in a headlock, who mournfully mouthed, 'I hate him so much', before being drug offscreen, his limbs whipping around like limp noodles.

Disjointed small talk was made, voices raised loudly as they all talked over one another. Having enough, Patty called for silence, in her own, special (homicidal), way, and on the count of three, each started their DVDs.

Wes, not planning on intruding on what was obviously a tradition among the group, had come up behind them to ask if there was anything they needed before he went to his room for the evening. His hands rested on the couch behind their heads, and he was sorely tempted. Surely God would forgive him from mashing their faces together? He had tried to be subtle, really he had, but as a human there was only so much he could bear before he snapped and filled the air with his creys and gross sobbing.

Maka, feeling bad about making him feel like he had to keep out of a room in his own home, asked him to stay.

"Have a seat and join us! It's just a movie."

"No, that's fine, I have some things I need to blo-um, do on the computer. Besides, this is your tradition, and you don't need another person in the middle of it."

"That's not true! We would love to have you, wouldn't we guys?" she asked the screen, earning loud invitations for him to join them. And worship one as a god, if he had heard correctly.

Seeing no polite way to refuse, he accepted, intently aware of his brother's marked silence. "Are you sure you don't mind, Soul?" he tried giving him an out.

"'Course not. You can see the tv alright from your chair, right? Should we turn the tv?"

Wes smirked inwardly. Soul had neatly removed him from the couch, and thus Maka's side. or so he thought.

"Not very well. It would be easier if I joined you on the couch. Mind making me some room? he asked guilelessly, as the opening music began to play.

Soul recovered beautifully. "Sure thing." he scooted closer to Maka, leaving Wes the other end of the couch.

Which was exactly what Wes had been aiming for. Now the two were smooshed cosily together, which eased the sharpness of his otp pangs marginally. He sighed happily. Now if he could manage to at least get Soul's arm around her shoulders, his evening would be quite satisfactory. He would hold off on the face smashing. For now.

Maka and Soul had prepared themselves for another part of their yearly tradition; namely, Black*Star singing in varying stages of loudness and on key-ness, depending on how many bowls of eggnog he had consumed. But eggnog was not forthcoming, as they were told sulkily from around a mouthful of fruitcake, all the eggnog had been recalled. Grinning at their luck, they felt their ears lower their guard. They shouldn't have.

Black*Star continued to join each musical number enthusiastically, even without the influence of the nog, making up his own words when he forgot the originals. Tsubaki, numb to the onslaught after years of his performances with every Disney movie they owned, tuned him out to enjoy the movie. Patty would occasionally join in from her seat on the floor, where she was stringing popcorn on one end of the string and eating it from the other. Liz and Kid were more practical, donning noise canceling headphones that were hooked up to the tv's sound system.

Soul and Maka, though by no means enjoying it, had years of practice to call on. Wes, who was witnessing the musical carnage for the first time, had been unable to focus on the movie, instead staring at the laptop screen. His face was fish belly white, his jaw slack as his hands shook with spastic tremors. A high, keening whine alerted Maka to his distress, and in a moment of brilliance, she fumbled the volume off. Soul gazed at her in shocked admiration.

"A volume controlled Black*Star. A true Christmas miracle." he whispered, his ears uncurling from the fetal position.

They were able to finish the movie in relative peace, Wes recovering slowly, wondering how Soul had managed to put up with it all these years and stay sane. Once the credits had safely rolled, Maka turned the volume back on. Tsubaki asked if they had a piano nearby, and if Soul would play at least one carol like he had the past two or three years before they signed off for the night.

Hearing the question, Maka panicked a bit. In the mood Soul had been in lately, the piano was sure to be a touchy subject, and as for playing, that was likely out of the question. She had to think fast to get him out of it gracefully.

Soul, who was preparing himself to be wheedled into it by Maka, felt the floor drop out of him when she spoke.

"Come on guys, Soul can always play when we get home! Wouldn't you like a chance to hear Wes play the violin? He's really amazing!" she said persuasively, then joined the others in encouraging a reluctant Wes.

Soul felt sick, but it had nothing to do with his earlier illness. Though he had always found it odd how much Maka seemed to like his playing, it had always secretly pleased him. She would always get excited and her eyes would light up in a way that made his heart stutter whenever he agreed to play, making it hard to refuse her. And now she didn't want him to play. She wanted Wes. She hadn't even given him a chance to say no, just brushed him aside in favor of his brother, just like everyone else, which he had never thought she would do. Who was he kidding? Wes had always gotten everything; the talent, the looks, his parent's love and admiration, so why should he be so damned surprised that he would get the girl as well? Because Maka was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be the one thing he could count on, the thing that made him feel like a winner.

Tears stung the backs of his eyes but refused to fall as he took deep, harsh breaths through his nose. He had to keep it together, at least until he could be alone. Wes had retrieved his violin and was starting up when Soul felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Glancing at it, he saw that it was Black*Star. A swift look at the computer showed that his friend was no longer there. Excusing himself, he took the call in the kitchen. He had barely answered before he was assaulted by a barrage of loud questions, the words coming so fast Soul was unable to make them out clearly.

"Whoa, slow down! I have no idea what you're tryin' to say." he interjected, leaning back on the counter, pulling at the neck of the sweater.

"Okay, fine. What. The. FUCK. Is. Going. On. Did you understand that?"

Soul gave a snort at his exasperating friend. That was Black*Star. Blunt to a fault. "What do you mean?" he hedged, not wanting to bring up his problems if that hadn't been what Black*Star had picked up on.

"Whaddya mean, what do I mean? Why the hell didn't Maka want you to play, and why do you look like someone just smashed your record collection?"

"Ah. You noticed that..."

"Hard to miss. C'mon, spill."

Keeping his eyes on the doorway so he would see if anyone came in, he gave his friend the short version.

"I don't know, man. Everything's a mess. One thing seems to happen right after another, and it just keeps gettin' worse. But what it all boils down to is that Wes and Maka seem to...like each other." he hated to admit it out loud, and the words were like razors in his mouth.

There was a long silence on the other end, and Soul almost thought that he had lost the signal.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!YOU GOTTA BE SHITTIN' ME!" Black *Star roared over the line.

Wincing, Soul held the phone farther from his ear.

"That can't be it. Are you sure? 'Cause I can't see it."

"Yeah, well, you're not here!" Soul snarled. "You haven't watched them for a week and a half like I have. Wes is all slick and charming, and Maka gets all giggly and blushing. Who knows what happened while I was sick in bed." Soul muttered darkly, visions of Wes' lips on Maka's plaguing his mind.

"Then break it up! BUST OUT THE FUCKIN' MISTLETOE AND WOO THE SHIT OUTTA HER!"

"YOU THINK I WOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT BY NOW IF I THOUGHT THAT WOULD WORK?" Soul bellowed in frustration, abruptly lowering his voice when he heard movement from the other room.

"Look, it's fine. It's just somethin' I gotta learn to deal with. Talk to you later, okay?"

"Fine, but it better be to tell me you've fixed this. I don't care what you've seen; ain't no way Maka would go for your brother instead of you."

"I used to think that, too. At least, I had hoped. But things don't work out for me like that. They never have." he said softly, ending the call.

He waited a few moments to collect himself, then returned to the living room, where he was met with curious looks.

"Sorry, had a call. So what's going on?"

Maka started to ask what he had been yelling about, then changed her mind. "We were just saying goodnight. The others have plans tomorrow, and have to get up early." she explained.

He joined her by the laptop, saying goodbye and merry Christmas to everyone, ignoring the pointed looks coming from Black*Star. Once they had signed off, Maka began to shut down her laptop and retrieve the DVD from the player.

"I have a few things I need to work on for the concert tomorrow, but we don't have to leave here until about six-thirty, so feel free to do whatever you want until then. That is, if you're feeling up to going out, Soul?" Wes asked with concern, worried at how pale Soul appeared. If he didn't look better tomorrow, he would suggest that he see a doctor.

"I wouldn't miss it, even if it does make me the third wheel." Soul responded cuttingly, under the impression that Wes was trying to get rid of him.

Wes blinked, having no clue why Soul sounded so put out. "Glad to hear it, and don't be ridiculous. What's this nonsense about being a third wheel?"

Soul was about to rip into him, but saw Maka out of the corner of his eye, gathering up her things and watching the brothers uneasily. He snapped his mouth shut on his words, deciding that now was not a good time. With a stiff goodnight, he went upstairs, without waiting for Maka to join him.

Alone, Wes and Maka stared at each other, unable to fathom the sudden mood swings that Soul had been going through recently.

"Does he do this a lot?" Wes asked, unable to remember his brother being like this before.

Maka shook her head. "No. Soul may grumble and gripe, but it takes a lot to really upset him. To be honest, I've never seen him like this."

Placing his violin in it's case, Wes sighed. "I don't know what to do. Soul has never been very open, and I suppose that's one thing about him that hasn't changed."

"Don't worry, I'll think of something." Maka promised. She suspected that whatever it was was something that the two needed to deal with alone, without her there. Mind working over options, she bade an absent goodnight to Wes, then headed to bed. She had seen the look on Soul's face. He had been just about to break down and get it out in the open, but her presence had stopped him. As her eyes fell on her closet, she was hit with an idea. Tomorrow, she would make sure those two were alone together. She had been understanding until now, but if this didn't work, she was going to have to force it out of him. Pleased with her decision, she turned out the light, determined that things would be settled before the concert tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

She waited until after lunch to set her plan in motion, after several hours of watching the strained interaction between Wes and Soul, the first being openly confused while the second bubbled hostility under a thin veneer of politeness. She excused herself to go up and check her clothes for tonight, to make sure they hadn't gotten too wrinkled on the trip. Shortly after, she rushed back down, demanding Soul give her the keys to the car. Her dress was fine, but the heels on one of her shoes had snapped off, and she needed to replace them. She conveniently left out the fact that she had broken the shoe herself.

"Are you sure? I can go with you. I don't have anything else to do." Soul nearly begged, handing over the keys reluctantly.

Maka plucked them from his grasp, cocking an eyebrow disbelievingly. "You really want to go shopping? Shoe shopping? You'd be bored to tears in less than twenty minutes. And then you'd wander off to another store, I would have to come looking for you, and we would end up running late. So just stay here, and be a good boy while I'm gone, okay? Okay. Bye!"

Patting him on the head, she trotted out of the cabin, where he watched from the door as she backed out of the driveway and sped out of sight. Peachy. Now he was stuck here with Wes. Closing the door, he turned to creep upstairs, but was stopped by a hand falling on his shoulder.

"Soul, come into the living room. I think it's about time we had a talk." Wes' tone brooked no argument, so Soul followed him, throwing himself onto the couch, wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.

Wes sat in the recliner, and they stared at each other, neither knowing what to say or where to begin. Stroking the head of Spartacus, who had sat down next to his chair, Wes took a deep breath. This had been his idea, so he might as well be the one to start.

"I'm not really sure how to say this, but for a while now, I've sensed there was a problem. You're attitude towards me has become more and more negative, and I'm getting tired of it. If there's something that I've said or done to upset you, then say so, but drop the passive-aggressive routine. It doesn't become you, and it's making Maka worry."

Soul couldn't believe what he was hearing. If anyone had been listening, they would think a parent was dressing down a petulant child, and that thought pissed him off. Where did Wes get off, acting all superior, like he hadn't done anything himself?

"Well sorry I can't restrain myself as well as you! Not all of us can be perfect, you know." he spat, tired of holding back.

Wes frowned. "This isn't a matter of being perfect, it's about dealing with things in a mature manner, something I know you were raised to do. And I don't know where you get the idea that I'm perfect. I've certainly never thought of myself that way."

"Of course not. If you were arrogant, that might've made you at least a little human." Soul laughed, an ugly sound. "You probably never even noticed that everything you do comes out right, always manages to get first place. But I guess you wouldn't notice, since it all comes naturally for you."

His frown deepening, Wes leaned forward. "Whatever success I've had I've always worked for, Soul. I try very hard at whatever I set myself to do. I just don't understand why it bothers you so much."

Soul came out of his slouch to mirror his brother's position. "How could you understand? You have no idea what it's like to try as hard as you can, only to come in second place every damn time, always being compared to someone else! Did you really never see that you were always the one that got everything, while I was left in the dust? Our parents were always holding me up to you and finding me lacking. Whatever I did, you could do better. No matter what, it. Was. Never. Good enough. I was never good enough. Can you imagine how hard that was to live with?" the poison that had been bottled up within him all his life flowed from his mouth, the pain he had always done his best to hide finally being revealed.

Wes fell back in his chair, shocked at the venom that had been directed at him. It had caught him completely off guard; he never knew, or even suspected, that Soul had felt this way. He remembered the day Soul had been born. At six years old, he had been so nervous and excited that he could barely stand it. The pregnancy had been hard on his mother, who had never had the best of health to begin with. It was a miracle she had carried Wes to full term, but in the years between her sons, she had suffered two miscarriages. Soul had been born a month premature, and had looked so small and delicate in his mother's arms. Wes had watched him eagerly, stroking the baby's soft cheek with a tiny finger. He had decided right there that he was going to be the best brother ever, and he would try his hardest to be good enough so Soul would always be proud of him. As he contrasted that baby with the angry young man in front of him, Wes knew he had failed. Miserably.

"Soul...I...I don't quite know what to say. From the moment you were born, I was glad that you were my brother. Everything I've done, every success I've had is partially thanks to you. I always wanted to be the kind of older brother you could look up to, and I tried so hard never to do anything that would make you ashamed of me. I never compared you to me. There was no need, because I already thought that everything you did was wonderful in it's own right. But somewhere along the way, I obviously screwed up if I couldn't even tell that you had been hurting all this time."

The wind left Soul's sail a bit at Wes' heart-felt words. He never knew that Wes had done all of that because of him. He had always just assumed that everything came to him easily, without effort. He ran his hands over his face, unsure where to go from here.

"You didn't have to do all that. What made you think I'd like you any less if you weren't so good at everything? I liked you for who you were, not the things you could do."

Wes gave him a small, sardonic smile. "I suppose that's because of our parents." at his brother's confused look he went on, "Soul, you aren't the only one they judge harshly. Any affection I was ever shown was directly proportionate to how good I was. If my performance slipped, they became cold. I was too young at the time to realize that that wasn't how you earned someone's genuine love. I had always wanted a brother, and I guess I thought I had to prove myself so I wouldn't lose you. But of course I fucked it up, and ended up making you hate me instead."

Soul winced. "I never hated you. I mean, sure you were better at everything, but you didn't do it on purpose, and you never rubbed it in. I just...wanted them to care about me as much as they did you."

"That wasn't caring, Soul. When you care about someone, it doesn't matter how good they are at something. It's not what a person does, but who they are that matters. And I'm glad to hear that you didn't hate me, but I get the feeling that that has changed over the last few days."

Biting his lip and closing his eyes, Soul plunged forward. "I won't lie. I had a hard time when I was a kid. Everyone, from parents to teachers to friends picked you over me, and it always stung. But I got over it. Sort of. Pretty much. What I mean is, I finally found a place I could just be me, and it was good enough for everyone else. I was happy. Really, really happy. I had something that you weren't going to take away from me. But then...you kinda did. I've seen the way Maka looks at you. She's never looked at me like that, not even once. I thought that maybe, someday, we could be more than just partners. But I can see now that that's not gonna happen. I know it's not your fault. It's not her fault. That's just the way it is, and I need to deal with it. I'm sorry I've been a douche to you about it, but I never meant to make you think I hated you. I just...wish things could be different."

A sinking feeling stirred in the pit of Wes' stomach. "I don't know what you think you saw, but I seriously doubt that Maka views me in a romantic light. Maybe you're too close to the situation, because I think it would be obvious to anyone else that the one she's interested in is you. If you would just tell he-"

"Wes, I've known her for years. Do you really think I could live with her all that time and not know if she was interested in me of not? Trust me, Maka thinks of me as a weapon and a good friend, nothing more. And if I think about it rationally, she couldn't have picked a better guy. I know you'll treat her right. Because if you don't, I swear I won't let you get by with it. Nobody hurts my meister, brother or not."

There was a dangerous promise in his words, and Wes heard them loud and clear. There was no way he could tell Soul that this whole visit had been an elaborate ruse to get them togather, and that the only one who was under the impression that Wes had any feelings for Maka was Soul. He knew Soul wouldn't understand, and would mot likely think that he had been playing with Maka's heart for his own amusement. If Soul didn't hate him already, that would do the trick. The only thing he could do was try to get Soul to confess to her, and if that didn't work, urge Maka to make the first move.

"I understand your feelings, but I still think you should go ahead and tell her-"

"Wes. No. It's not gonna happen, so just drop it. Look, I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay? Let's just forget about it. I'm not mad at you, we're alright, so let me handle things the way I need to with Maka. I'm gonna go up and listen to some music, and you need to finish up the stuff you had to get ready for tonight."

Wes gave up. He would just have to work on Maka, because Soul was being so stubborn he was practically sprouting donkey ears. He nodded, pushing himself up from his chair.

"Fine, I'll let it go, as long as you're sure that everything's alright between us. I know I haven't been the best brother to you, but I have tried my best, and I want you to know how proud I am of you. What you do is not easy, and it took a lot of hard work to get where you are now. Our parents may not understand that, but you don't need to worry about them. You have people that care about you and support you just as you are, so never compare yourself to anyone else. The man you've become is more than good enough. Anyone who doesn't understand that are not the type of people whose opinions you need to worry about."

Soul felt guilty. His brother understood him better than he thought he would. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him away so much, he would have known this sooner. He wouldn't do that again. He promised himself he would stay in better contact, and be more open with him. Maka really had picked the better brother, and although that still hurt, and probably always would, he could eventually be happy for them.

He gave a shaky smile, wanting to reassure Wes. "Thanks. That means a lot. And don't worry, I'll be fine. I just have to...sort everything out and get used to it. See you later."

Wes flopped his head back and groaned as he heard the door to Soul's room click shut. He had created a giant mess. It wasn't going to be easy to fix, either. He loved Soul more than anyone, but the dear boy was just so goddamned thick! He should have just gone with his impulse to mash their faces together last night...

Several hours later, Maka poked her head in, shoe bag clutched in one hand as she surveyed the area for damage. There seemed to be no signs of struggle, no blood spatter on the floors or walls, no bodies in need of disposal. Heaving a sigh of relief, she headed up the stairs, pleased that things had gone well. She frowned. Unless Soul had just barricaded himself in his room for the whole time. She knocked on his door, then opened it to find him sitting on his bed, head bobbing gently with the music from his headphones. Seeing her, he removed them, giving her the first half-way normal smile she had seen in a while.

"Hey. Did you find a pair that works?"

She waved her bag in the air. "Yup! I think I actually like these better than the other ones anyway. What did you do while I was out? You didn't stay in here the whole time, did you?"

Soul's skull tingled in warning, a line right down the middle where the spine of her books usually connected.

"Um, no? I talked to Wes for a while, had a bite to eat, but for the most part I was in here. Why, is that a problem?"

The annoyed look left her eyes, and the tingling on his scalp stopped. Whatever it was, he had dodged it.

"That's good. I had hoped you would get a chance to talk to him. Now, you need to get ready soon. I don't want to be late. Have you already taken a shower? Because I need the bathroom to fix my hair."

"Go ahead. All I gotta do is change my clothes, so I can wait awhile to start."

"Just don't forget. Or fall asleep. I'm going to go start getting ready. See you later!"

She hummed happily as she went to her room and began to set out everything she would need. Soul had seemed more relaxed, so she assumed everything was alright now, and that there wouldn't be anymore problems. Congratulating herself for having her plan go off without a hitch, she proceeded to the bathroom, with the mistaken belief that all was now well with her weapon.

Soul stood at the foot of the stairs, already in his dress coat and holding Maka's over his arm. Wes was settling the dogs in the den with some pig ears, and his violin was ready to grab as he walked out the door. Soul was getting ready to call out and ask if she was about ready, when movement from the top of the stairs drew his attention. He sucked in a sharp breath, thinking, not for the first time, how beautiful his partner was. They had been told to dress in Christmas colors, and she was wearing a strapless white dress that fit tightly on her upper body and then flared out in a wide circle, the hem coming to the tops of her shoes. It had a wide, red sash at the waist, with red sequins and beads scattering in a thin trail under it, widening until they formed the outlines of poinsettias at the bottom. She had on red, elbow length gloves, and matching high heels. Her hair was in an updo with a few loose curled tendrils framing her face, a small sprig of holly over one ear being the only thing she wore in the way of jewelery.

Reaching his side, she gently closed his mouth. "So I guess I look alright?" she teased lightly, enjoying the way his face had flushed when he saw her.

"You look a lot more than just alright! You look...you're all...wow." he was mentally kicking himself for not being able to come up with a line that even a twelve year old could top.

She laughed as she let him help her int her coat, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers on her bare shoulders as they drifted down over her collar bones to close the coat around her. She could smell the cologne that he rarely wore, the scent going to her head and making her dizzy. At least she thought it was the cologne. It might have just been the effect of his suit, something that always got her blood going. It wasn't his pinstripe suit, but it was tailored to fit him perfectly, the black contrasting nicely with the dark red dress shirt he wore. And oh god, he was wearing a tie, something that she had had many dark fantasies about. This one was black with red stripes, and her fingers itched to reach out and give it a yank. With a strangled whimper at the back of her throat, she stepped away before she lost control.

Wes stepped into the hall to join them, case in hand. "Are you ready to go? If we leave now, we should make it on time."

Maka smiled at him. He was also wearing a black suit, his with a white dress shirt and a bright red tie. It was amazing; though there was an undeniable resemblance between the brothers, only one of them could spark a flame of desire within her. The other, though nice enough, didn't move her at all.

"We're ready. Sorry we can't take your truck, but I think my dress would be smashed by the time we got there."

"That's not a problem at all. I'm just sorry you have to put up with my odd habit of having to buckle my violin in the front seat."

Wes had not totally given up. It was a small thing, but anything he could do to push them closer together was worth it. He buckled in his violin as the other two got in the back, Maka arranging her skirts carefully on the seat. Soul made sure that he didn't sit on them, and thought that he might actually try to have at least one dance with her at the small reception that was being held afterwards.

The building was packed when they arrived, men in black suits mixing together with women in festively colored dresses. They checked in their coats, and Wes left them to join the rest of the orchestra. Soul and Maka went in to find their assigned seats, which turned out to be near the front in the center. Sitting and waiting for the performance to begin, Maka could see that Soul was uncomfortable; he had always hated fancy gatherings, and this time there was no balcony for him to escape to. She squeezed his arm, not protesting when he covered her hand with his when she tried to move it away. They stayed like that, the hum of the crowd washing over them, the sounds of the orchestra tuning up behind the curtain.

Soon, the lights dimmed, warning that they were about to begin. An announcement was made asking people to please turn of their cellphones, and not to use flash photography. A hush fell over the audience as the wine colored velvet curtains were lifted, and softly, music began to play. Maka found that she was unable to keep her full attention on the stage as the muscles in Soul's arm bunched under her hand, his breathing becoming unsteady as the song went on. She stroked her arm in a comforting manner, before he took her hand, his grip almost painful. By the way his eyes were glazed over, she could tell he didn't even notice. Thankfully, this was not going to be a short performance, because she didn't think Soul would be able to make it. When it came time for Wes' solo, he seemed to stop breathing altogether, hanging on every note that his brother coaxed from the strings. He played beautifully, the expression on his face one of joyful serenity, which seemed to spread through all those that heard it. Except, of course, for Soul. He let out a ragged breath when Wes sat back down, shuddering as if he had been running for miles at top speed. His grip relaxed fractionally, though he never let go until the curtains went down.

They moved along to the other room when it was over, where a space had been set up for dancing, with finger foods and punch on tables lining the walls. Maka was prepared to stand to the side, but was surprised when Soul placed a hand on her waist, leading her to the dance floor.

She smiled up at him curiously. "Are you sure you want to dance? I know it's not really your thing." she asked as they began to move around the floor, following his lead as she had so many times in the past.

He grinned crookedly as they moved together, her feet easily shifting into the correct steps. It had been a long time since she had last stepped on his foot. Irrationally, he missed it.

"What can I say, it's Christmas, a time for miracles." he twirled her around as she giggled.

They danced through three more sets before there was a tap on Soul's shoulder, which turned out to be Wes asking to cut in. Feeling like Cinderella as the clock struck twelve, Soul released her, fixing himself a glass of punch and going to stand in the most deserted corner of the room. He watched sadly as Wes and Maka danced across the floor, thinking how good they looked together, their outfits coordinating almost as if they had planned it. A look of shock crossed her face at something Wes said, before settling into a shy smile, her cheeks a rosy hue. He said something else, and she shook her head frantically, her flush deepening. Even as his heart died a little more inside, he found himself wishing he could read lips, even though what they were saying would probably only cause him even more pain.

"Soul? Soul Evans, is that really you?"

Soul wrenched his eyes away from the dancing pair to focus on the person that had spoken, a raven haired girl in a shimmering green dress. He squinted. Her face looked familiar, and those blue eyes...

"Veronica?"

She beamed at him. "Yes! Soul, it's so good to see you! It's been what, six or seven years?"

He nodded, taking in the girl that he had first loved. She was still quite beautiful, older and taller, her curves filling the dress nicely. She was attractive, but he felt nothing. No stirring of longing or regret, which only served to emphasize his feelings for Maka.

"Yeah, something like that. What brings you to Aspen? Did your family move out here?"

Shaking her head, she took a sip of her own punch. "No, my boyfriend is the cellist. I'm spending the holidays with his family this year. What about you? Last I heard, you had gone to Shibusen to become a weapon, and even made it to Deathscythe. Congratulations!"

"Thanks. That happened about three or four years ago. Wes had us come up here to visit him, but he never said anything about you being here."

"That's not surprising. I haven't actually seen him the whole time I've been here, so he may not even have known. Was that your meister I saw you dancing with earlier? She's very lovely. She has the most expressive green eyes I've ever seen.!"

"She does, doesn't she? That's Maka Albarn. She's been my partner from the beginning." Soul tried not to sound like he was bragging, but didn't quite manage to pull it off.

Veronica grinned at him knowingly, her blue eyes twinkling. "You know, I can always tell when a girl is in love. It's a talent of mine. And as soon as I saw her, I knew for sure! It was unmistakable, the way she looked at y-"

Soul drew himself up and cut her off, not wanting to hear someone else confirm her feelings for Wes. "She's in love with Wes. I know that, I'm not an idiot, so I don't need you to tell me. Excuse me. It looks like they're ready to go. It was nice seeing you again." Without waiting for her to respond, he strode away to join Wes and Maka, who had ended their dance.

Veronica gaped after him, then glared at his rudeness. "I was going to say she was in love with you, you idiot!" she grumbled, looking for her boyfriend. "You better figure it out before she gets tired of waiting on your slow ass!"

When Wes had cut in, Maka had to call on all her self control to hide her disappointment. Soul rarely danced with her, at least in this type of setting, and she had wanted to soak up every second of it to replay in her mind later. She had expected him to make small talk as he guided her around the floor, but there was something on his mind, and, after a few rounds, he finally blurted it out.

"Maka, I have something I need to say, and I want you to be honest with me. You're in love with Soul, aren't you?"

She gasped in shock, but couldn't bring herself to deny it.

"I...welll, yes. Yes, I am." she finished more firmly.

"Good. Now you need to tell him that." he spoke over her as she began to protest. "I know it's not an easy thing to do, but Soul lacks the confidence to make the first move. You're not the only one that's in love, you know. Couldn't you at least try to tell him?"

Maka groaned, sagging slightly. "I have tried. Twice. On this trip, in fact." she confessed.

Wes was dumbstruck for a moment. "When? How? What happened?"

"I tried the first time when we got stuck on the skilift, and the second time when the heat went out and we had to sleep in the den. He fell asleep. Both times." she explained flatly, scowling briefly at the memory of her defeat.

Wes goggled at her, too busy reeling from the shock t preen over the fact that his ideas had been perfect after all. His brother was just too much of a putz for them to work.

"I-I don't understand...he's just so-so..." he searched for the right words.

"Romantically narcaleptic?" she supplied helpfully.

"On behalf of my brother, I sincerely apologize. Believe me, this pains me." he added under his breath, "more than you'll ever know."

Maka frowned, and he hastened on, "still, you should try again. I think part of his problem these past few weeks has been that he thinks you don't return his affections. In fact, he may be under the impression that they lie elsewhere."

At his guilty look, she stared at him suspiciously, not liking the sound of that. "Why would he think something like that?"

Wes gulped. He had forgotten that she was just as dangerous as his brother. "He...may have taken a joke I made to seriously. I tried to get him to understand, but you know how damned stubborn he can get."

Putting her irritation to the side, she sighed. "I don't know. Sometimes I think he might feel the same way, but then I get worried, and I don't want to risk what we already have. But I've already decided that I was going to tell him as soon as we got home. That's the day after tomorrow; I think he can make it through Christmas. I'd really rather do this at home, in case you're wrong. Otherwise, it would be even more awkward."

It wasn't exactly what he had hoped for, but it was better than he had feared. He would just make sure that Soul stayed busy and distracted all day tomorrow, and he would be carefull to do nothing that could be misconstrued.

"Alright, as long as you plan on resolving it, I'm happy. If you're ready, we can leave now. I'm sure Soul is more than ready to go."

Maka removed her hands from his shoulders and stepped away. "I know. Soul hates these types of events. Oh, he's headed our way already! Looks like he was ready, after all."

That hadn't been what he meant, but it didn't matter. He waited for Soul to join them, wincing at his rictus smile. It was painfully obvious to him that the boy was trying to put a good front up for Maka. It had probably been hard for him to watch them dance, but Wes hadn't been able to think of another way to speak to her alone.

They picked up their coats, which didn't take long since they were leaving earlier than most people. Soul was quiet as he joined Maka in the backseat, and for some reason, she found herself thinking how lonely he looked. Disregarding her dress, she scooted over to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

""Sorry, I'm a little cold." she lied when she felt him jump at the contact.

She thought he was trying to move away from her, but he just moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders. After a brief hesitation, he laid his head on top of hers, her hair smooth under his cheek. He closed his eyes, wishing it could always be like this. But he knew it couldn't. Soon, he wouldn't be able to touch her like this. Even though it meant nothing to her, it did to him, and that would be wrong if she was in a relationship. He shouldn't even be doing this now, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away. Until the thing with his brother was a done deal, he would take every opportunity to be close to her that presented itself. Squeezing her shoulders, he concentrated on memorizing everything about her that he could, from the way her hair smelled of shampoo, to the even sound of her breathing, the skin of her neck soft and warm under his fingers when he brushed against her.

The ride ended far to quickly, and he was slow to disengage himself from her to get out of the car. The night air was sharp and cold, the wind sting his cheeks and making his eyes tear up. Yes, it was the wind. Only the wind.

They tromped inside to the excited barking of the dogs, who threw themselves at them as if they hadn't seen them for years. Once they had been greeted and pet by everyone, they settled down, letting the humans shed their coats.

"I'm making a big breakfast early in the morning, so I'll be going to bed now. Goodnight!" Wes waved as he went to his room, the dogs at his heels, ready to snuggle on the bed.

Soul followed Maka up the stairs, wanting to be behind her in case her heels got caught on the boards. Wishing each other goodnight, they separated at their doors.

Sleep did not come easily for Soul, and when it did, it was fitful, until he finally slid deep into a nightmare. He was a child again, at the piano. He was trying his best, but he couldn't seem to play the piece all the way through without messing up. His parents looked on in disappointment, shaking their heads. Voices whispered all around him, focusing on all his failures and imperfections. Unable to stand it any longer, he leapt up and ran, the voices following him, faces floating around him in the darkness, judging him and finding him wanting. In the distance, he spotted a familiar silhouette, and he picked up speed, knowing that if he could make it to her her would be safe. As he reached her, everything else faded away, and he reached for her. But as she turned to face him, he saw that Wes was standing behind her.

"Soul! Guess what! Go ahead and show him, Wes!" Maka cried.

Wes smiled down at her lovingly, before looking at Soul and holding out his arm. It changed into a blade much like Soul's, only sharper and brighter. And bigger. Much bigger.

"Isn't it wonderful? Now Wes can be my weapon! Don't you think he'll make the best Deathscythe ever?" Maka asked, oblivious to the pain she was causing. He sank to his knees, as everything was cruelly torn from him.

"But...Maka, I'm your weapon! We were going to stick together no matter what, remember?" he pleaded with her, begging her to change her mind, but she only looked at him blankly before clinging to Wes possessively.

"You were alright, but I'm sure Wes will be far better. Besides, I need him with me now, since I'm already pregnant."

Soul choked as the other two kissed passionately.

Maka broke it to speak to him once again. "Aren't you happy? You're going to be an uncle! And you'll definitely have to be the best man at the wedding. After all, if it hadn't been for you, Wes and I never would have met!"

Her stomach seemed to grow before his eyes until suddenly she was holding a baby, a perfect mix of her and Wes. The happy couple ignored him as they cooed over the child, trading glances with each other that promised that that wouldn't be an only child for long...

Soul awoke with a start, his shirt soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin. He yanked it over his head in disgust, and threw it into a corner. Sitting up, his bare feet rested on the cold wood floor, and he rubbed his hands over his eyes, then through his hair to cause it to stand up more wildly than before. Knowing he wouldn't be going to sleep again anytime soon, he slipped quietly downstairs and into the living room, making sure to shut the door behind him. He didn't bother with a light, but sat at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys. Then he began to play, all his pent up sorrow flooding from his body and into the music, his eyes shut as he lost himself.

He was so far gone that he hadn't heard the footsteps that had followed him, or the small cry when he had played. He was caught completely off guard when arms were thrown around his neck, and her soft, gasping sobs filled his ears, two hot tears landing on his neck and running down his spine.

"Stop playing that!for god's sake, stop it, Soul! Don't ever play like that again!"

His fingers stilled, and the last notes hung in the air before fading away. He turned on the bench to face her, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, cursing himself for not paying more attention. He hadn't meant for her to find him like this, exposed and vulnerable. If the cause had been anything but her, he might be able to confide in her, but he couldn't tell her that he was playing like this because of her. Maka always blamed herself when he got hurt, and this time would be no different. There was nothing she could do, and it would be cruel to burden her with his feelings.

Maka felt sick to her stomach. She hadn't been able to sleep, lying in bed half dozing, when she heard the sound of Soul's door open and his footsteps in the hall. At first she just assumed he was going to the bathroom, but he turned in the opposite direction, going downstairs instead. Thinking that he couldn't sleep either, she had followed him, surprised when he closed the door to the living room. She stood outside, wondering if she should go in, when the piano began to play. At first she was happy, thinking she would get to hear him for the first time in quite a while, but the more she listened, the more she realized that things were horribly wrong. The music was so sad and lost, and it tore at her soul. It spoke of heartbreaking loss, confusion and loneliness. Anyone hearing it would be sad, but what made it worse for Maka was the fact that she knew Soul always played himself; the music was always what he was feeling. She had rushed in, the need to stop him consuming her. Even when the music was no longer being played, it echoed in her ears, and she couldn't stop crying, even when Soul wiped the tears away.

"Soul, why are you playing something so awful? What's wrong with you?" she sniffed, trying to pull herself together.

Soul felt caught, his fight or flight response kicking in. Since there was nothing he could latch on to fight about, flight won out. He stood, patting her on the shoulder and trying to smile, though his attempt was more ghastly than comforting.

"I just couldn't sleep. Had a bad dream, I guess. Nothin' to get all worked up over. You should get some sleep, since we have to get up early."

"But Soul-"

"I'm fine. You need to stop crying, or your eyes are gonna be all swollen tomorrow, and Wes will wonder what's wrong." he took a few steps towards the door, but couldn't help adding, his tone raw with emotion, "Wes is a really great guy, and he...likes you. A lot. You couldn't pick a better guy to go out with, you know."

The words burned his mouth, but he had needed to get them out. He had only taken about two more steps when her voice reached him.

"That's really too bad. About him liking me, I mean. You see, I've always preferred the piano to the violin."

His feet refused to move as his mind raced to comprehend her words. Slowly, he turned, taking a few shuffling steps in her direction, hardly daring to hope.

"But...Wes is really talented, you know. He's smart and charming and polite. And good looking." his voice was hoarse as he stopped in front of her, his eyes searching hers for any type of clue to her thoughts.

She smirked a bit, placing her hands on his shoulders, his body heat feeling nice in the otherwise cool room.

"I prefer my men a bit dim, it seems. And rude. And snarky. And I'll take edible over good looking any day."

A wide, goofy grin stretched across his face as he lowered his head to hers, their noses almost touching.

"But Wes is a gentleman. He would be kind and thoughtful, and give you time to change your mind before you got stuck with a complete moron."

"I don't want a gentleman. I want someone who's supportive and giving and willing to bury his own feelings if it would make me happy. In other words, I want to be stuck with the complete moron."

He couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he kissed her, her lips warm and yielding under his as her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss was innocent at first, fueled by relief at the knowledge that he wasn't going to lose her, that she was finally here in his arms where he had wanted her to be for so long. It was Maka who deepened the kiss, her tongue prodding the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth to join her. He felt, more than heard the sigh she gave as she pressed her body into his, and that sound, along with the feel of her hardening nipples seperated only by the material of her shirt was his undoing. One hand still supporting the back of her head, the other dropped to her waist as he rocked his hips into hers, her sigh turning into a throaty moan as she pushed back.

Her body was trapped between his and the piano, and she raised a leg to wrap around him as they continued to grind, the bulge in his pants flush against her core. Her movement seemed to excite him, and his thrusts became harder as he lifted her up, clutching her to him as his mouth left hers to nip at the tender skin of her neck.

Licking the shell of her ear, he chuckled when she shivered and whispered, "You have no idea what it would mean to me to take you right here on this piano..." his voice shifted from the sexy rumbling tone into something closer to normal. "But that would kinda be sucky for a first time, and I don't think I'm ready to deal with complicated combinations of leverage, balance, and angles just yet. So maybe we should take this upstairs? That is, if you want to keep going." he finished worriedly, afraid that in his desperation to be close to her he might have moved too fast.

"That sounds like a good idea...and I know it's not the same, but we could always sneak into the school and do it on the piano where we met. Besides, I thought you said something about not letting me change my mind?"

He almost drooled at the mental image of them on the school's piano, before he focused on the rest of her words. "I didn't mean it like that! Not lettin' a girl change her mind about somethin' like that is more than uncool. I just meant-"

She kissed him on the nose, placing her feet back on the floor. "I know what you meant. Come on, let's go upstairs."

Their fingers laced together as they went up the steps, pausing a moment to choose a room. They settled on Soul's, closing and locking the door behind them. Sitting on the bed, they became suddenly shy as they were hit by the reality of their situation. Maka wouldn't meet his face, instead focusing on the scar on his chest, running one finger along it. The moonlight reflecting off the snow bathed the room in a bluish glow, making it easy to see.

Soul caught her hand, holding it. "If you're not sure, we don't have to..." he trailed off as she shook her head.

"No, I want this. I just thought it wouldn't be happening for at least another two days, if at all."

"Huh? What's in two days?"

"I promised Wes that that's when I would tell you how I felt, as soon as we got home. Not that I needed him to tell me. I had already decided that when my other attempts fell flat while we were here."

Soul was completely and utterly lost. "When did you ever say anything like that?"

Maka gave a short laugh. "The first time on the skilift, and again when we had to sleep on the couch. You fell asleep on me. Both times." she said ruefully.

Soul groaned, burying his face in his hands in mortification. "Fuck! Why didn't you wake me up? Damn it, Maka, if you only knew how miserable I've been..."

She rubbed his back. "I tried, but each time, I lost my nerve. And then I could tell something was bothering you, and I didn't want to add to it. I had no idea that it had anything to do with me. Wes told me that you might think I was in love with him, but the whole idea was so ridiculous I couldn't believe it. Did you really think that? Why didn't you just ask me?"

"It wasn't that ridiculous, you know. All my life, Wes has always come in first place, always had people choose him over me. And I would catch you with this look on your face when you were with him, like watching him ski, or when he had his arms around you at the pond, or dancing tonight. I figured it was just one more thing I had lost out on. The most important thing. And I couldn't ask you. A part of me didn't want to hear you say it, even if I already knew."

Maka snuggled into his side, placing her arms around him. "Soul, those times you mentioned, it was you I was thinking about, not him. It's always been you. I never thought of Wes like that, not even once. I love you, Soul. I have for a long time."

At her soft admission, his arm went around her, and he dipped his head for another kiss. "I love you too." he said, before their lips connected for the second time, their bodies slowly leaning back until they were laying on their sides, their movements unhurried as they caressed and explored the other's body, small kisses being planted on cheeks and necks and shoulders, hands stroking over backs and waists. At first, Soul kept his hand over her shirt as their lower bodies moved closer, pulling her leg up to rest on his hip. This caused her shirt to ride up, and his fingers brushed the skin at her side. He was about to move it away when she grabbed his wrist, and placed his hand under the edge of her shirt. He took his time working his way up, painfully aware that she wasn't wearing a bra. The skin on her stomach was soft and smooth, and he could feel goosebumps raising up wherever he touched her. He stopped just short of the underside of her breast, instead reaching around to her back. He grinned into her mouth at her frustrated whimper, but his amusement evaporated at the sharp jerk of her hips.

Tired of his slow pace, she rolled until he was under her, her legs straddling his waist. She rocked them together, their mouths clashing as tongues slid past lips, tracing over teeth. Soul gripped her ass in both hands, squeezing firmly, knowing no matter how much silk and lace she wore in the future, he would always find fuzzy pajama pants to be near the top on his list of sexy clothing.

He was distracted by the feel of his own green and red plaid pants being tugged at the waist band. She sat up, which put more pressure on his crotch. He took this chance to bring his hands in full contact with her breasts, causing her to arch her back. His breathing became harsher as he watched her reactions, his thumbs flicking over her nipples, then giving them a tug. She bit off a cry, chewing her lower lip as she ground into him harder, her hands leaving his chest to remove her shirt. Soul sat up, growling at the sensation of her chest against his. She felt better than he had dreamed possible, and he was content to be like that, licking and nibbling her collar bones as she tugged on his hair. But soon, her hands wandered back to his pants, and he got the hint.

"Soul, off. Please." she was taking no chances.

He slid her off his lap, quickly kicking his pants off, leaving him only in his boxers. She looked below his waist. And burst out laughing.

Soul didn't know whether to be hurt or offended, until she spoke.

"Are-are you sure you didn't have this planned?" she gasped.

He glanced at his boxers, then felt his ears burn with embarrassment. Around the band were the words, 'Jingle My Balls', and there was mistletoe over the fly. Perfect. Way to set the mood, Soul. It looked like he was expecting a Christmas blowjob. Taking pity on him, she kissed him again, the hand resting on his thigh going higher and higher, until she was gently stroking his dick through the boxers. He grunted, bucking into her hand, before fondling one of her breasts. Becoming more daring, she thrust her hand under the waistband, gripping him more firmly. Her thumb swirled over the head, spreading the precum that was leaking from the tip.

Feeling his balls tighten in warning, he pulled her hand away, not wanting to come yet. She looked at him curiously.

"You got me too close." he explained. He gestured at her pants. "Your turn."

Nervously, she stood, untying the bow in front and letting them drop to her ankles so she could step out. Seeing what she was wearing, Soul couldn't help but laugh. Her panties were tiny, red bikini cut, with a scattering of penguins holding candy canes. She huffed at him, climbing back onto the bed and leaning against the pillows, crossing her arms under her chest. Her bouncing breasts wiped humorous underwear from his mind, and he pulled himself up to rest over her body, kissing her shoulder gently. He savored the taste of her skin as he drew closer to his target, ghosting along the swell of one breast with the tip of his tongue. The hand that had been on the other breast dropped away as his lips closed over a nipple, his fingers dancing past the waistband to glide over the increasingly wet patch between her legs. With each pass he added more pressure, his teeth worrying the bud that was in his mouth. The high, needy noises that came from her mouth urged him on, her thighs trapping his wrist between them.

His own need was growing more painful, but the fascination of her pleasured responses to his touch outweighed its importance. Wondering if he could get her to moan louder for him, he slyly began a journey from the soft mounds of her breasts, working his way down her body. He traced patterns on the flat of her belly, the muscles jumping under his tongue. He left little love bites, small patches of red that would still be there in the morning. He skipped past her panties to nip at her thighs, snickering when she replaced his hand with his head. He licked her through the cloth, and at the feel of his mouth between her legs, her body rose up off the mattress, his name coming out in a strangled sob. He felt himself get harder in response, the desire to taste her driving him along. He hooked his fingers in her panties and yanked them down, past her slim legs to toss them over his shoulder.

Spreading her legs, he placed them on either side of his head as he gripped her waist and pulled her forward, raising her lower half up so that her weight was on her upper back. This gave him better access to her folds, and without hesitation he licked her again, finding the nub at the top of her opening. He paid special attention to this, prodding it carefully to test how sensitive she was. Circling it and flicking it from side to side, he gradually increased to pressure, her hands pushing at the back of his head telling him he was doing something right. As her heels drummed his shoulders, he brought his fingers up to her entrance, gently working on inside of her. Giving her time to adjust, he kept stimulating her clit, adding a second and then a third finger as she became used to taking him in. He pumped steadily, alternating between curling and scissoring, hoping it would help her later. Applying more suction, he was planning on getting her to come, but suddenly she began to move away from him. Thinking he had done something wrong, he sat back, searching her face for any sign of distress.

Her chest heaved as she gulped for air, her eyes smoldering as they locked on his. "Soul...could you...now...I need..."

Understanding, he quickly shed his boxers, moving to place himself between her legs. Kissing her, they both groaned at the feel of him sliding through the wetness of her folds, the head bumping her clit. He ran his fingers through her hair, giving her a chance to change her mind if she needed to. When she only smiled at him and pulled him closer, he took that as his signal to continue. Fumbling a bit, he placed the tip at her entrance, both of them hissing as he pressed forward, her at the sudden pain of invasiveness, him at the feeling of her walls wrapping around him.

It took most of his concentration to hold himself still when his body was screaming at him to move, but he wanted to make this as easy on her as possible. As the pain eased, she gave an experimental thrust, which he reciprocated without thinking. She did it again, and he could no longer hold back. He moved slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in, her hips rising to meet him with each thrust. He wanted to draw this out as much as he could, though he knew he wouldn't last long. This was his first time, and the way her muscles contracted around him was driving him blissfully insane, a fact he tried to convey with whispered words of love and encouragement against her ear, telling her how fantastic she was and how good she made him feel and dear god, he loved her so much.

At his admission, she began to claw at his back, nails raking fiery paths of pain and pleasure along his flexing shoulders. She begged him to go faster, and though he didn't want to, he was helpless to resist as she moaned that she was almost there. He drove himself into her more forcefully, his orgasm bearing down on him, the heat spreading outwards from the pit of his stomach. He came with a harsh yell, her name mixed with curse words rolling off his lips. Feeling his body fall, he used his last remaining energy to flop sideways so he didn't crush her.

He managed to make it part way, but he still ended up laying half on top of her on his side, his hand smoothing over the curve of her opposite hip. As his head cleared, he was able to form enough coherent thought to ask her something.

"Hey, were you able to...did you?"

She shook her head, still not having all of her breath back. "No, but it was close. Just another minute, and I think I would have."

"Shit. That's no good." Soul cursed his stamina, vowing that he would work on that. Diligently. Not wanting to be the only one to finish, he slid his hands between her legs, thumb going to her clit while his other two fingers moved inside of her, not caring about the mess. It's not like it would be the first time his hand had been covered in his own jizz, after all.

"Soul, you don't have to-ooooooh, god, keep going!"

Grinning smugly, he propped himself up so he could hit at a better angle. Curling his fingers to press the spot that had gotten the best reaction earlier, he kept um the attack on her clit, her hands tearing at the sheets as her head tossed from side to side, the only word he could clearly make out his name. She hadn't been lying when she said she was close, as he found when she tightened around his fingers, her eyes rolling back as she came. He removed his hand, placing it on her stomach as she calmed down. He rested his head on the pillow next to hers, still not used to the fact that this was really happening, would most likely happen again, that she really wanted him as much as he wanted her. She turned her head, and they smiled at each other, her hand coming up to run through his sweat dampened bangs.

"Thank you. That was wonderful." she whispered, unknowingly shooting his ego into the stratosphere.

He kissed her cheek. You were pretty wonderful yourself."

She laughed, seeking out his lips. "Want to try to be wonderful again?' she murmured against them, already feeling him stir against her thigh. Grinning wickedly, he rolled back on top of her, waggling his eyebrows.

"We've already done wonderful. Let's shoot for amazing."

In the room below them, Wes grinned as the thumping started up again. He laughed as Spartacus heaved a sigh and Freya buried her head under the pillow. Typing the words, 'when you witness your ship becoming canon.' and then hit 'post', before setting his laptop on the bedside table. He wasn't sure about the details, but they had obviously worked things out between them. He hummed happily, mentally composing his response when he was asked to be best man. Now he just needed to decide on the perfect toast...

The next morning, Soul woke up to a weight on his chest. Blinking in confusion, he was met with a faceful of wheat colored hair, warm puffs of breath heating his skin. Relaxing as the events of the night rushed back to him, he snuggled back down, happily wrapping his arms around her. The sun's position told him that it was late morning, far past the time they were supposed to be down for breakfast, but he didn't care. He had Maka. In his bed. He was in bed. With Maka. He wondered when that fact would no longer surprise him, but suspected it wouldn't be any time soon. As enthusiastic as she had been last night, there was still a part of him that expected it to be yanked away from him. He pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to think like that. Instead, he remembered last night, a faintly perverted smile gracing his features. It had taken a few more tries, but they had finally reached amazing together.

He felt Maka stir, but made no effort to get up. He watched with interest when she stretched, the light better than it was last night, the details of her body more clear to him. The lazy, sleepy smile she wore was erased as her eyes fell on the clock, and she tried to scramble out of bed, but he wouldn't let go.

"Soul, stop messing around! We're late! Wes probably had breakfast ready hours ago!"

He just nuzzled his face into the crook of her shoulder. "But I already have breakfast. In bed, even." he murmured suggestively.

She nearly gave in at the feel of his lips on the sensitive patch of skin, but Maka was Maka, and she couldn't knowingly keep someone waiting. She smacked his arms away, gathering her clothes to put on while she darted to the other room.

"None of that, Soul. At least," she said, relenting at his whipped puppy look, "Not until tonight. Come on, it's Christmas. Let's go spend it with your brother, since it's our last day here."

Mumbling about how she better remember what she said tonight, he dug out his own clothes as she scampered into her room, giving himself a quick wash in the bathroom before going to the kitchen.

Maka had been wrong. Wes had not, in fact, been up for hours. Soul found him listlessly moving about the kitchen, breakfast only about halfway done. He had dark bags under his eyes, and it looked like he hadn't gotten any more sleep than they had. Suddenly recalling the placement of the rooms, Soul realized that he probably hadn't. He tried to feel bad. Nope. Not working. Not in the slightest.

Wes smiled tiredly as he entered, and Soul heard him singing under his breath, "I saw my ship come sailing in on Christmas day, on Christmas day! I saw my ship come sailing in, on Christmas day in the morning!"

"Um, isn't that supposed to be, 'I saw three ships?" he said worriedly. Wes never got the lyrics to a song wrong.

"You have your version, I have mine. Have a seat, it'll be a while. I got a late start. But I guess you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

Soul snorted as he plopped into a chair, correctly assuming his brother would want revenge for being kept up late. And he was right. What was cute for Wes at one in the morning wasn't as cute at three, and it was downright eyelid twitch inducing at four.

Making sure nothing on the stove was in danger of burning, Wes joined Soul at the table, a cheese eating grin plastered on his face. "Well, Soul, I have to tell you. You may not play the piano at the level that you set for yourself, but I can honestly say that you have truly mastered another instrument. The bed springs and headboard!"

Groaning, Soul thunked his forehead on his arms, hoping Wes would let up soon.

"I'm rather surprised the bedframe held out. There were a few times that it creaked so loud that-"

Soul looked up as Wes was cut off, to find him sprawled on the floor with a familiar dent in his skull, a glaring Maka standing over him, book in hand. Doubling over with laughter, he held out a hand to help Wes to his feet.

Wes stood dizzily, rubbing his scalp. "What on earth was that?"

"That, my dear brother, was a Maka-Chop. Looks like she considers you family now."

Maka sniffed, taking her own seat. "I don't care what anyone says. You two are obviously brothers."

Soul sat back, watching them bicker. One one side of him was Wes, the brother he had always thought was so far above him. Now that things were settled between them, he could see the signs that he was just as human as he was. Jealousy no longer constricted his chest when he looked at him, and he knew that they would be seeing more of each other in the future, and that their relationship would continue to heal and strengthen.

Speaking of relationships, he turned to Maka on his other side, lecturing Wes about being a pervert and respecting privacy. He truly hadn't expected for them to get together, no matter how much he had always dreamed of it. But he no longer had to dream; she had made it a reality. He looked forward to exploring this new aspect to their relationship, though he knew that not much had actually changed. Their feelings were still the same, just out in the open. And a bit more...physical at times, which he thought he could get used to pretty quickly. Snagging a muffin from the basket on the table, he grinned. This had been the best Christmas ever, hands down.

XXX  
An apartment door clicked open, then was closed with the heel of a foot as two people entered, giggling as their bodies bumped together. It was late, or early depending on how you looked at the time, but for New Year's Eve it was nothing that wasn't happening all over the city. They had just returned from the huge party that was still going strong at Kid's house, and Soul was unable to keep his hands off his partner's body, which had been teasing him all night in the short, tight black dress she had worn. He had surprised her when he had insisted on dancing, but it quickly bade sense when she realized he was just using that as an excuse to rub their bodies together, their actions going unnoticed, the crowd of other dancers around them hiding their actions. Maka had enjoyed herself immensely until she felt herself weakening against his suggestions that they sneak off to the bathroom. Suspecting that they wouldn't be the only ones with the same idea, and having no desire to rush, she had instead offered to go home early. He hadn't needed to be told twice, and now here they were, her hand around his tie as she led him to the bedroom.

"Dunno what this fascination is you have with my tie, but you better be careful. How are you going to explain to people what you were doing when you choked your weapon to death?"

She yanked him closer, biting down on his earlobe. "I don't hear you complaining."

His hand slid under her skirt, rubbing against the soaked lace he found there. "Nope. I can think of worse ways to go."

She had just gotten his pants undone and was giving him a rather nice handjob when there was a knock at the door. Hastily, they readjusted their clothes, cursing whoever it was who was interrupting them.

Stalking to the door, Soul threw it open, glaring out into the hall. No one was there. Ready to close it and continue with the festivities, he stopped at Maka's squeal of delight. Pushing him out of the way, she crouched down, and Soul saw that the hall wasn't empty after all. In a small wicker basket was a dog, and at first he thought it was where she had a hear shaped spot on her hip, this dog had one across it's chest. Maka had already lifted it out of the basket and was snuggling it to her chest, Soul noticed jealously, leaving him to bring in the basket, which had a note tied to the handle.

Dear Soul and Maka  
I know how much you loved Freya, and when I heard that her brother needed a home, I immediately thought of you. This is Freyr. He's a good boy, and already potty trained. In the basket you will find his leash and a small bag of food, plus some doggie pads. This should hold you over until you're able to get to the store.  
Love, Wes.

Soul read the note out loud, less than pleased at the new addition to their household. But at Maka's pleading look, he knew protesting would be useless. Blair had wandered out from under the couch to find out what was going on, and the puppy hopped down to greet her.

"Come on, you guys! You know that he's going to try to hurt Blair! Dogs don't like cute kitties!" she pouted up at them.

"Yeah, Maka. What if he tries to hurt Blair?" Soul didn't really think it would be a problem, but two animals in the apartment was a bit much.

Maka rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Blair can take care of herself, and she could always transform if he tries anything. Which he won't, because he's the sweetest little-"

She was cut off by an ear-splitting yowl, and they looked down to find that Freyr had gotten behind Blair and had mounted her, humping as furiously as his little puppy hips would allow. Blair shot across the living room, nudging open the window and escaping into the night.

Soul smiled at the dog, weakening. "Well, I guess we know that he loves cats. We'll have to go pick up some stuff for him in the morning."

Taking this to mean that Soul was on board for puppy parenting, she gave him a kiss, then swept Freyr up and headed back to their room. Following them, Soul had an uneasy feeling.

"Hey, aren't we gonna...you know...oh hell, no way is he sleepin' with us!" Soul blustered. The bed fit the two of them quite well without any furry additions.

"But Soul, he's not used to it here, and he's just a baby!"

Preparing to argue, he was saved the trouble when the puppy jumped off the bed, and waddled to the dresser, standing on his hind legs to paw at one of the drawers. Not knowing what else to do, Soul opened it for him, and the dog jumped in, nesting into the sweaters that Soul had stuffed there when they got home from their trip. The dog had obviously decided that that was going to be his bed. Soul gazed at him fondly. This was the perfect dog. He wondered, only half jokingly, if Freyr would teach this nifty little trick to any future children he and Maka might have.

He was jerked, literally, out of his musings by Maka's hand on his tie, yanking him down into bed with her with a yelp. Her green eyes sparkled up at him mischievously, and his red ones darkened in response. They had only been together a short time, but they had found they could communicate just as well without words. As he kissed her, he thought about how happy he was, how much brighter the simple day to day things seemed to be now that he knew she loved him. Though he had been right and not much had actually changed, in some indefinable way it was better, and he wouldn't change it for the world, which he had managed to convey to her earlier today when he had played the piano for life was better for having her in it, with the committment between them strengthening their already solid relationship further. He wished everyone could be as happy as he was now. His mind flashed to Wes. Maybe he should speak to Maka tomorrow about doing a little shipping of their own...

But for now, it was time to focus on being amazing.


End file.
